


'a red-eyed ruby'

by librastrai, MadeNightwing



Category: RWBY
Genre: Adam is Raven's student, Blake and Adam have never met each other, Blake doing much better at concealing her identity, Nora Valkyrie-Ironwood, Qrow Is The Best Uncle, RWBY and JNPR are now JSPR and BYRN, Raven is the worst Mom, Ruby Branwen AU, Silver-eyed Yang, Taiyang is the best dad, a few other surprises which I don't wish to spoil yet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:27:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 25
Words: 126,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27096544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/librastrai/pseuds/librastrai, https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadeNightwing/pseuds/MadeNightwing
Summary: Ruby saw them every morning. The scarlet eyes for which she was named. Her only inheritance from the woman who gave birth to her. The woman who abandoned her. The woman who was anything to her but her mother.Ruby Xiao-Long was determined to chart her own path beyond the shadow of Raven Branwen. But with a time of peace coming to an end, and fate shifting with every flap of a butterfly's wings, the path of mother and daughter may yet intertwine. Only time will say if it shall be as allies or foes.
Relationships: Raven Branwen/Taiyang Xiao Long, Summer Rose/Taiyang Xiao Long
Comments: 252
Kudos: 134





	1. the girl who cried

‘I don’t understand,’ Ruby sniffled. The picture lay in her lap, her tears falling from her cheeks to dash against it. Against the tall, dark haired woman with eyes the same blood-red as her own. ‘Why? Didn’t…didn’t she want me? Was there something wrong with me?’

‘Ruby…’ Dad’s voice cracked. ‘Raven…your mother…’

‘No.’ A rougher, angrier voice cut him off.

‘No, you listen to me, short stuff,’ Uncle Qrow grabbed her shoulders and held her still. ‘There is absolutely nothing wrong with you. Not a thing. Not even a little bit. Not one part of you that is bad or unworthy. You’re a kind, smart and beautiful little girl. What you deserve is to be safe. Warm. And loved. Ruby, you are so loved by everyone around you.’

Her eyes tracked over to Dad, whose tears were now falling faster than her own. But he could still nod at her, his broken smile a signal of his agreement.

It seemed that Yang couldn’t help herself any longer. Silver eyes still brimming with tears and golden hair still in disarray, her big sister snatched Ruby off the ground, pressing her tiny body against her with such force that Ruby let out a panicked squeak.

‘Mom would have loved you just as much as I do,’ Yang said solemnly, all trace of her lisp suddenly gone. ‘Just as much as Dad does.’

‘So, don’t you even think about calling yourself a Branwen,’ Qrow said. There was a dangerous edge to the declaration. ‘That pack of thieves, cowards and murderers doesn’t deserve to have something precious like you associated with it. And if Raven chose them over you, then that makes her the stupidest bi…’

‘Alright,’ Dad interrupted. ‘I appreciate that emotions are running high, but…’

Ruby was still frowning. ‘But…Uncle Qrow…you’re still a Branwen. And you’re not a thief, coward or murderer.’

Qrow coughed. ‘Well, some might disagree…’

‘You need a new name!’ Ruby suddenly declared. ‘You shouldn’t have to be a Branwen anymore.’

Qrow and Dad stared at each other with amusement.

‘Well, it’s the one I came with,’ he said. ‘A bit too late to swap it out.’

‘But you could! If you married someone, you could take their name.’

‘That…would be one solution…’ The edges of Uncle Qrow’s lips twitched furiously. ‘But until now I’ve yet to find someone that will have me.’

‘Then I’ll help you find someone. Someone nice, who deserves you.’ It was as simple as that.

Uncle Qrow pressed a hand to his eyes and rubbed at them furiously. Ruby was worried that he’d gotten something in them. When he lowered his hand, his eyes were red, well, redder than usual.

‘Alright, kiddo.’ He extended his hand. ‘You find me someone nice and I’ll take their last name faster than you can spit.’

‘I can spit pretty fast,’ Ruby said, but she shook his hand solemnly. The picture was pushed aside. The red-eyed woman was pushed aside. All of Ruby’s family was in this room, right where she wanted them.

There would be no more expeditions to find the red-eyed woman. She had a new mission. A better one. And she would not rest until it was done.

\--------------------------------------

Ruby watched it like it was in slow motion. The witty banter. The flawless bladework. The footwork so graceful it might as well have been dancing. The cool, cool, awesome weaponry. Well, from Uncle Qrow, at least. The woman’s sword was kind of basic. But she could forgive her for the awesome semblance that came with it.

‘Qrow Schnee…’ she whispered under her breath.

‘What was that?’ Weiss said next to her.

‘Nothing.’ It was not nothing. After many long years of searching, endless candidates discarded for being too short, too tall, too boring or just not worthy, Ruby had finally found her.

That it would net Ruby another sister was absolutely beside the point.

‘Auntie Winter…’ she tested the title out for size.

‘What?’ Weiss frowned again.

‘Uh…I said ‘Sorry Winter,’ Ruby stuttered.

Oh yes…two snowflakes in the family was _definitely_ better than one.


	2. a boy with a sword

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Xiao-Long girls celebrate their birthdays with cloaks of pure white.
> 
> Across the world, master and apprentice strike a train. Rewards are earned at the edge of a blade.

For her tenth birthday, Yang had only made one request. A white cloak with a hood, edged in gold. Taiyang Xiao-Long was not a man who could deny his little silver-eyed dragon anything. He was weak like that.

So he sent away to the best seamstress on Patch and paid a premium for a cloak that would be warm enough in winter and cool enough in summer, that could double as a blanket in an emergency and was tough enough to resist a Grimm’s claws in a pinch.

Then he steeled his heart and showed nothing but joy as he clasped it around her shoulders and told her to make her birthday wish. And when she solemnly declared her wish to be as great a huntress as Mommy, Taiyang took every scrap of grief and loneliness and shoved it deep, deep down and bound it with iron so that neither of his girls could see it. With a broad grin on his face, he told her that he would train her himself every day until she had no equal.

When Ruby repeated Yang’s request for her own tenth birthday, the iron grew brittle. When he clasped the white cloak (edged with scarlet to match her eyes) around her shoulders and asked for her wish, the iron warped. And when she repeated Yang’s wish to be just as great a huntress as her real Mommy, Taiyang found himself on his knees clutching both of them and his tears wouldn’t stop and his throat was raw and his chest just wouldn’t stop hurting.

Qrow, moping bastard (or beloved brother on occasion), stepped in to save the girl’s new cloaks from being drenched in salt water.

‘I’ll train this one.’ Qrow tapped Ruby on the shoulder. ‘String Bean’s more my build anyway.’

Short Stuff no longer. Ruby was now bigger than her older sister. The blonde streaks had faded from her jet black hair. She already looked like a younger version of Qrow. Soon she’d look like…like…

He put so much cake and ice cream in Ruby’s bowl that she was almost sick.

Qrow put a wooden scythe in her hands the next day and made her work off the sugar.

\-----------------------------

On Ruby’s tenth birthday, a boy half a world away made his first kill.

They’d waited all night for the train, the boy wrapped up in a thick oilskin coat to keep out the chill. He had not yet learned to use his aura to keep himself warm. He would in time. The woman in red would make sure of it. He would learn all she taught him, or he would fall behind and be left to die.

Such was Raven’s promise to him from the first day, when she’d caught him sneaking food from the camp store. Shay had wanted to take his thieving paws. Vernal had suggested taking his other eye, cruel little thing that she was.

Raven had looked into his eyes. Both of them, not just the electric blue of the right, but the mangled and maimed red of the left. Perversely, it had made her think of another set of red eyes into which she’d once stared. Back when she’d been soft.

Not Qrow’s. His had always been as dark and stormy as her own. A brighter set, ones which had been as helpless as the frail and wretched lad in the tattered SDC overalls.

Ironic, that his red and ruined eye, which had left him too worthless for the SDC to bother ransoming him back with the rest of the workers she’d abducted, had earned him her last scrap of pity.

‘If he has strength to steal, he has strength to work.’  
Strength to work had become strength to fight. He’d scrapped with the other children until he was strong enough to beat all of them. She’d told the combat instructors to put steel in hands and see what he could do. They’d given him an axe, but he’d demanded a sword. One of the teachers, amused by his request, gave him a rusty old chokutō and told him to make do.

The boy cleaned it. Then traded with the blacksmith until the surly bitch helped him repair it. Then he trained with it until only Vernal could match him blow for blow.

He’d overstepped when he demanded Raven train him, and she’d beaten him black and blue for his temerity. The boy had limped to her tent again the next day and requested another lesson. Only after he’d gotten fast enough to dodge her fist and boot (a skill many months in the learning) did she finally deign to beat him with a wooden sword instead.

In time the camp had stopped calling him her pale shadow out of derision and started speaking it with respect. And perhaps a little fear. His mask covered only his eyes and his blade was only of grey steel. But he moved like her. He thought like her. In time, when he was ready, he would kill like her.

She didn’t bother shaking him awake. If he was too tired to hear the train passing beneath them then he would not merit any of the spoils from its taking. But she heard his footsteps behind her as she sprang from their hiding place, and the soft rasp of steel on leather as his blade came clear.

They were on the guards before the alarm could be sounded. Soulless automatons were cut down like dolls. Ill-trained guards were felled with fractured bones and battered faces.

A huntsman and huntress stormed out of the passenger compartment, their blades flashing in the morning sun. Raven was embarrassed for them. If they were Beacon graduates then she was embarrassed for Goodwitch. It was the work of moments to disarm and bind the little huntress with the girl’s own restraints, then critique her student’s footwork as he battered his own opponent into unconsciousness.

Things had gone so well she was almost surprised by the spider-droid. The price for her distraction had been a costly one. Three shattered blades, dust and craftsmanship wasted together. The foe was irksome enough she’d been tempted to use it. That infinite reserve of power. The blessing she’d stolen before grasping it was a curse.

He had solved the problem for her by leaping in front of the next blast. The boy had never absorbed such power before. But nor had he ever released such devastation as when he turned the automated behemoth into a cloud of wafting petals. The droid, and the unconscious hunters behind it.

He was shaken by the deaths. The tremble in his shoulders was the proof. Good. Murdering by itself was not surviving. She didn’t need him getting a taste for it.

‘More control next time,’ she said as she passed by. ‘Killing without use is wasteful.’

‘Yes, Mistress.’

‘Come.’

They pushed into the main compartment and laid their eyes on the bounty gathered for them by Jacques Schnee’s greedy fingers.

‘There’s enough dust to keep the tribe fed for a year.’ She passed a hand over the boy’s shoulders. ‘Choose one case. It’s yours.’

He jerked upright. Whether from the unexpected softness of her touch or from the equally unexpected generosity, who could say? She was quick to put him to right on both fronts.

‘We are Branwens, Adam.’ She removed her mask. Not to show warmth. That would only lead to weakness later on. But it would have been wrong for a mo-…for a master not to show some pride in her student.

‘We are Branwens,’ she repeated. ‘And a Branwen gets what they earn. Take your pick.’

His eyes ran over the shelves of the precious crystals. Ice. Lightning. Gravity. Hard Light, even. A single case of any of them was worth a small fortune. He stopped at the red. Fire. The cheapest, most common of all. Easier to get than bullets sometimes.

‘Show me how to inlay it into Wilt,’ he said.

Raven put her mask back on before he could see her smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AU Ruby goes from smollest to tollest of Team RWBY. Taiyang cries a lot about his daughters (this is no change from canon, can’t change my mind), Raven is cowardly and abusive but damn is she fun to write.
> 
> The sad part is Adam would probably be less of a disaster from this upbringing than he was in canon..


	3. a man in his prime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ruby receives her invitation to attend Beacon. Taiyang is...not thrilled.

‘Absolutely not!’ Taiyang snarled. ‘No way, no how. Never in a million years.’

‘But Dad…’ Scarlet eyes swelled with tears. He remained unmoved...perhaps a little moved, but he held his position gamely.

‘Do not but Dad me. You can save your but Dad-ing for when I tell you that you can’t date whatever boy you drag home.’

Yang snorted. ‘She’s more likely to drag back a girl for Uncle Qrow to date.’

‘You stay out of this,’ Taiyang warned his eldest offspring. ‘We’ll have words later about you leaving your little sister alone in that part of town.’

‘The shopping district?’

‘Zip it, or forget about taking Zippy to Beacon.’

The threat shut Yang up. That still left Ruby to deal with.

‘Professor Ozpin said I could start this term.’ Ruby’s eyes were set. Her arms were crossed. The battlements had been manned and were ready for a protracted siege.

Taiyang was more than willing to starve her out. ‘Professor Ozpin doesn’t have a history of smart decisions!’

‘You’re blowing things out of proportion!’

‘We’re talking about a man who allowed Summer to go ahead with her shirtless ‘Huntsmen-in-Training’ charity calendar in our third year because he hoped it would boost recruitment!’

‘It boosted female recruitment, that’s for sure,’ Yang muttered.

Tai fixed her in place with a glare. ‘Do not think that just because you’ve almost flown the nest that you’re out of the danger zone, Yang. I am close, personal friends with all of your teachers and they like me better than you.’

She smirked. ‘For now.’

‘The point is this.’ Tai turned back to Ruby with a stifled growl. ‘You have two years to go at Signal. Even if Ozpin thinks you’re ready, which I would vigorously dispute, it’s not just combat classes you’ll be missing out on. You’re ahead of your class in chemistry and physics, that’s true, but you’re way behind on history and literature. And if you think the academic curriculum at Beacon takes any backseat to combat, you’ve got another thing coming.’

‘You dispute it?’ Ruby leaned forward, eyes narrowed. ‘I wiped the floor with those guys.’

‘You wiped the floor with some half-trained rent-a-thugs.’

‘I fought Roman Torchwick!’

‘Oh? And Roman Torchwick is in handcuffs right now?’

‘Well…’

Tai’s head sank into his hands. He’d never been good at this. Disciplining his girls when they were naughty, sure, any parent could do that. Denying Ruby when she’d done good, when she’d done very good? That was stretching him to the limit. He should be showering her with praise and treats for smacking around a bunch of would-be thieves without so much as a scratch. Instead he had to stand here and be the bad guy.

He was not good at being the bad guy. Where was Qrow when he really needed him?

‘Ruby, please.’ He couldn’t get the note of pleading out of his voice. ‘Give Qrow and I another two years to finish your training. You’re turning into an incredible fighter. Two more years and you won’t just be ‘at the standard’ for Beacon. You’ll excel at it. Hell, you could event enter the competition circuit. Be the next Pyrrha Nikos. Face on a cereal box and everything.’

‘I don’t want to be on a cereal box. I don’t want to be the next Pyrrha Nikos.’ Her jaw twitched and he had to resist the urge to tell her not to grind her teeth (that would come later, at the dentist). ‘I want to be Ruby Xiao Long, the youngest huntress to ever enter Beacon.’

It was like trying to argue with Raven (or worse, Summer) all over again. Tai’s temples were throbbing with the effort of keeping his arguments logical. He didn’t want to revert to me parent, you child, but now more than ever he could understand the temptation. Instead he pointed at her cloak on the bench.

‘Do you think this is one of your games, Ruby? Do you think the scorch marks on that cloak were simply Torchwick’s way of taunting you? He was trying to kill you!’

‘That’s what a huntress does! Puts themselves in danger for those that can’t protect themselves!’

‘Or they die trying, Raven!’

In the moments after he’d said it, Tai became aware of two things. First, Ruby’s red eyes widening in shock at the name on his lips. The next was Yang’s gasp. He looked at both of them, mouth opening and closing without sound as his brain flip-flopped between argument and apology.

Ruby solved the dilemma for him by grabbing her hood and storming up to her room. Yang hesitated, glancing at him like she desperately wanted to say something. He half hoped that she would. But she seemed to reach the same conclusion he already had. There was nothing left to say.

When the door to her room closed, Tai simply took his jacket off the wall and walked out the front door.

It was only a short climb to the cliffs.

\------------------------------------------------

Ruby woke to the smell of pancakes. Well, that and bacon and eggs. Sourdough toast. Fresh scones. Cream and jam. Any other day, that might have sent her flying out of bed and petal bursting down the stairs into the kitchen to get her pancakes whilst they were still piping hot.

Today it just made her bury her face back in her pillow, still stained with her tears from the night before.

If her father thought he was going to buy her off with a nice breakfast, he could go…

‘Ruby, sweetie? Breakfast is ready.’

‘I’m not hungry!’ It was childish and petulant, but if he was going to treat her like a baby then she was well within her rights to act like one.

‘Ruby!’ Yang yelled. ‘If you don’t hurry up, we’re going to miss the ferry!’

Her instincts kicked in before her brain had finished processing the words. She skidded to a halt outside the kitchen, petals drifting around her as she took in the smell of fresh sunflowers, the food piled high on the table, and two neatly packed lunches resting next to two freshly cleaned and pressed white hoods.

Ruby’s eyes traced from them back to where Dad was hovering over the stove.

‘Aaaand, my spinach, mushroom and kale mix is just about done, add some pine nuts and season to taste.’ He slipped the last plate onto the table. ‘Eat up quickly, Ruby needs a new suitcase and new combat boots , and I don’t trust either of those things not to be sold out this close to the new term.’

‘Dad…’ Ruby’s quivering lip brought him to a halt. He looked up, a bright smile on his face.

‘Good morning, Ruby.’ He leaned over the table to plant a quick kiss on her hair. ‘Do you want maple syrup on your pancakes?’

‘What changed? And…yes please.’

‘The situation hasn’t changed at all,’ Dad said. ‘You’ve still been offered a spot at Beacon two years early and I’m still not happy about it.’

‘But…?’

‘No buts. That’s pretty much everything.’

‘Daaaaaad…’

He didn’t answer, not until he’d delicately swirled the maple syrup in overlapping circles on the top pancake and topped it all off with a dollop of cream. He pushed the plate to her, along with a steaming mug of black coffee (just how she liked it). She met his gaze. Challenging him. Defying his attempts to let it all fade away. He gave first, just like she expected.

‘You’ve been trained by the best scythe fighter since the Grimm Reaper,’ he said. ‘You’re only fifteen but you’re almost as tall as me. You’re stronger and smarter than any other boy or girl your age. If Professor Ozpin thinks you’re ready, then you’re ready.’

‘Dad…I…thank you so mu…’

‘I have conditions!’ Dad held up his hand. ‘First, I’ll be forwarding a list to the deputy headmistress containing each subject that you’ll be missing due to skipping two years. I don’t care if you have to work weekends, but you will not miss a single one of those lessons.’

‘Done!’

‘You have to call home every night.’

‘Maybe once a week?’

‘Three times a week, don’t push it.’

‘Done.’

‘And you don’t get to drive Zippy until you’re actually sixteen and Yang can legally teach you.’

‘Too easy.’

‘Ruby, I am very serious about that last one. I love that car and if you…’

He was cut off with a squawk as Ruby barrelled over the table with her semblance and wrapped her arms around his chest.

When she was smaller, it had been a cute, innocent expression of a child’s unconditional love. Tall and willowy as she now was, it had a greater representation of attempted murder as father and daughter toppled to the ground. Tai groaned at the impact, then patted her hair gently.

‘Well, I guess you…’

Yang and Zwei both descending on the dogpile cut him off with a panicked wheeze.

\--------------------------------

Yang had always seen more than most people thought. Most people mistook her for the more airy of the Xiao Long girls, the short, bright and bubbly counter to Ruby’s tall, dark and somewhat moody countenance (at least until you got half a pack of cookies and two shots of espresso into her).

She’d always wondered why people seemed to show her so much more of themselves just because she smiled. Dad’s theory had been wonderful.

‘You show so much of yourself every day. It’s only natural that people will want to show themselves back.’  
Uncle Qrow had been far more…dour. ‘The simple minded see smiling people as less of a threat, so they let their guard down. No idea why. You’re literally baring your fangs at them. It’s one less muscle movement to bite their nose off.’  
Yang hadn’t bitten any noses off (yet). But she kept smiling and people’s guards kept slipping.

Dad didn’t have much of a guard to begin with. Taiyang Xiao Long was an open book to his daughters and always had been. He ran as hot as she did and most of it bubbled to the surface sooner rather than later.

So it was an odd thing to see when he did place that guard up and it was surprisingly good. From the moment he’d agreed to let Ruby go to Beacon, there’d been a shield behind his eyes that hadn’t been there before and Yang didn’t particularly care for.

It stayed up during the drive to the docks. It stayed up during their hasty shopping expedition. If anything it only increased in density as Ruby loaded her new belongings into a bulky travel bag and declared herself ready for Beacon.

It slipped a little as he hugged them goodbye, but slammed shut again as he smiled and waved them up the ramp of the air ferry.

He almost got away with it. He held his composure until Ruby had disappeared deep inside the ship and it had begun to lift from its moorings.

Like most other people, he forgot to look out for Yang.

Despite the many, many jokes to the contrary, Yang knew her father was still a relatively young man. Uncle Qrow liked to drop the occasional gag about her very rapid conception after Team STRQ graduated, but once Taiyang and Summer had decided on marriage and kids, they had committed to that decision with enthusiasm. Yang wasn’t really in a position to complain.

Yes, Dad was a dad, and therefore old and out of touch. But he was also a licensed huntsman and combat instructor in his mental and physical prime, his youth and energy having long evolved into the iron grit and restrained power of a seasoned campaigner. Yang had never known him to be anything other than strong. She didn’t know how he managed to look strong even when he was crying over a particularly cute puppy (he and Ruby had shed quite a few tears over that one), but he managed.

For a long moment, Yang looked at her father’s face and saw every worry, care and woe of the long years written on his brow. He looked tired. Worn out. Beaten. But most of all, he looked afraid.

She appreciated that he’d kept his thoughts inside all morning, and not on display. If he had, she might have just abandoned her dream and followed him back home, if only to ease a fraction of the weariness in his eyes.

\---------------------------------

The good thing about living on Patch was that it was always a twenty-minute walk from anywhere to everywhere.

The bad thing about Patch was that if you wanted to take a long walk to clear your head, you inevitably crossed your own path again. And, if forced to cross your own path, you inevitably noticed when things started changing. Like, for example, a black bird rested in a nearby tree and gazing at him with intent.

After passing by the bird almost a dozen times, Tai’s already frayed nerves had worn completely through. He swung about to face it, his face screwing up as he pointed an accusing finger.

‘If you wanted a say in it, you should have stayed!’

His shout echoed through the forest (no doubt startling the neighbours several kilometres down the road. The bird did nothing, just glanced at him with typical bird-like curiosity that would be more out of place on a real human than a corvid.

Tai dropped his finger with a sigh. Jumping at birds now. Some huntsman he was. And yet…

Blue eyes met orbs of beady red. There was intelligence there. The bird’s own, Raven, Salem herself for all he knew.

‘You should have stayed,’ he whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This could almost be a canon-compliant part. There’s no way Tai didn’t have something to say when he found out his daughter was skipping two years of combat training. and moving into the big leagues straight away.  
> We’ll pick back up with trash-bird-mom and feral-bull-child soon enough.


	4. the woman who sang a lullaby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taiyang adjusts to an empty nest. Raven hears a song she hasn't heard in many years.

On his first day without any children in the house, Taiyang Xiao-Long was incredibly productive. Up before the crack of dawn, he performed his usual calisthenics with the same vigour he had when he was a teenager (yes, his right hip and left knee didn’t quite move that way anymore but that was irrelevant). An easy two hundred push ups. A casual hundred heaves. A boring thirty minutes alternating between a jump rope and vertical sit ups.

Smashing a sledgehammer into a rubber tire until the poor thing caved in was practically a cool down after that.

He fed Zwei. He cooked a nourishing breakfast of eggs, spinach leaves and pine nuts. He avoided coffee. He washed the dishes, swept the kitchen and then weeded the garden until nothing was left but his prized roses.

For a little extra stimulation, he even cut up some firewood.

By mid-morning there was enough wood to keep the Xiao-Long household at a toasty temperature for the next three winters. This far out from the main townships there were no neighbours to show their concern, but Zwei’s quizzical head-tilt was enough to make up for it.

‘I know they’re alright, boy,’ he said gruffly. ‘They’re _my_ daughters, aren’t they? They’ll be fine.’

His head turned east as he checked his watch. A few decades earlier, a few kilograms lighter and a few sorrows easier, he’d been abseiling down a cliff above the Emerald Forest, glaring at red eyes as they shrugged and let the rope slip through their fingers. It had marked the start of a long and tiresome day.

He’d survived. So had Qrow. And then Tai had teamed up with the women who’d come to define his life. Both of them. The source of his greatest joys. The cause of his greatest sorrows.

Ruby and Yang would have a much easier time, he was sure.

\-------------------------------------

_‘Well done, Miss Ruby!’ Professor Ozpin placed both hands on his cane as he beamed down at her and the dying Nevermore behind her. ‘I should have expected nothing less from Tai and Raven’s daughter!’_

_‘Hmm, your fighting style is a little wild,’ Professor Goodwitch peered sternly over the top of her glasses. ‘Brute strength and raw aggression will only get you so far. I suppose I shouldn’t be too surprised. Raven always favoured overpowering her opponents as well.’_

_‘Detention, Miss Xiao Long,’ Doctor Oobleck pressed his glasses tighter against his face. ‘I will not tolerate any disruptions to my class any more than Doctor Eglund tolerated your mother’s shenanigans.’_

_Professor Peach clapped her hands together in delight. ‘Oh my goodness, you’re the spitting image of your mother. Those beautiful eyes, that lovely hair! Adorable, utterly adorable!’_

‘Are you alright?’

Ruby’s head snapped up as her new partner stared down at her with concern. For a moment, Ruby scowled at her. The sudden hurt behind the dark green eyes was almost a shock. Ruby hadn’t known what to expect when she’d accidentally been partnered with the Invincible Girl of Mistral, but she hadn’t quite expected the older girl to be so shy.

‘I’m fine, thanks Pyrrha.’ She smiled wanly. ‘What a first day, huh?’

‘You mean getting locked in a large cage and having Grimm released into it wasn’t your idea of fun?’

‘That actually was kind of interesting.’ Professor Peach’s manic laughter during the whole event had been somewhat unsettling, but still. ‘I guess it showed us where we needed to improve.’

The improve being that their team leader couldn’t fight his way out of a wet paper-bag and the _other_ girl on their team was an egotistical gremlin. It almost made it worse that Yang was getting on with her new team like a house on fire,

‘I’m sorry.’

Ruby raised an eyebrow. ‘For what?’

‘I know I’m not the partner you were after,’ Pyrrha said sadly. ‘You wanted your sister, didn’t you?’

It felt pointless to deny it and cruel to confirm it. ‘And you were after Jaune?’

‘Was I that obvious?’

Ruby couldn’t stop the grin that spread over her face. ‘The look on your face when you realised Ice Queen had already grabbed him as a partner made it pretty obvious.’

‘Yeah,’ Pyrrha sighed. ‘She was really quite determined to get me on her team, one way or the other. It must have been a nasty shock to her when Ozpin made Jaune the team leader.’

They both winced at the memory of Weiss’ earlier tantrum after Professor Peach’s first Grimm Studies class. After verbally eviscerating the scraggly blonde, she had stormed off with her nose in the air, whilst Jaune had slunk away with his tail between his legs.

Professor Peach, of course, had found the entire affair hilarious.

_‘Ah, it’s just like Team STRQ all over again. The theatrics, the melodrama, the thinly veiled sexual tension. This will be a fun year, I can just feel it. Port will be livid once he gets back from his sabbatical.’_

If Professor Port was also going to compare her to Raven Branwen, then Ruby hoped he stayed on sabbatical forever.

\-------------------------------------------

‘How?’ Qrow rasped. ‘How did I get stuck with _you_ as my backup?’

Port beamed back at him, the rotund man shouldering his massive pack with an ease that belied his ponderous frame. ‘Come, dear boy, surely you must see the appeal? Two eligible bachelors like us, wandering from town to town on the frontier like the legends of old? Why, Ozpin himself couldn’t stop smiling at the idea.’

‘He was smiling because he knew we’re both probably going to die!’

‘Rubbish, lad! I was one of the finest huntsmen of my generation!’

‘Yeah, twenty years and forty kilograms ago!’

\-----------------------------------------------

‘Why did you even want Jaune as your partner? No offence, but he’s not the most skilled of fighters.’

Pyrrha paused, the brush in her hands still wrestling with a knot halfway down Ruby’s unruly black mane. With Weiss and Jaune still nowhere to be seen and nothing else to do, they’d decided to get ready for bed. And, absent Yang or Dad, Ruby had been forced to entrust her hairbrush to Pyrrha’s hands. Thankfully, the older girl had proven as adept with it as she was with her sword.

‘It wasn’t really anything he did,’ Pyrrha mused. ‘It was more…what he didn’t do. No fawning or fanboying like Weiss or…’

She trailed off.

‘Like me,’ Ruby finished. It was true, she’d been a little starstruck when she first ran into THE Pyrrha Nikos in the middle of the Emerald Forest. Neither Dad or Uncle Qrow rated the competition circuit very highly, but it was THE Pyrrha Nikos. Everyone knew about her.

Everyone except Jaune, apparently.

‘But even then, wasn’t that just because he didn’t know who you were?’

‘It was,’ Pyrrha confirmed. ‘But even when he found out, it didn’t change much. Most people have this pre-conceived notion of what I’m like just because they watch my tournaments. They think they know me personally from some interviews or advertisements. I couldn’t walk down a street in Argus or Mistral without someone I’d never met calling me by my first name. I thought I could have a blank slate with Jaune. A chance to be judged entirely on my own merits.’

Ruby winced and Pyrrha paused again, likely afraid that she’d tugged the brush the wrong way.

‘No, it’s…I think I know how you feel.’ Ruby looked up to meet her own eyes in the mirror. ‘Like today...’

‘All the professors comparing you to your mother.’

‘It’s not like I chose to look like her.’ Ruby hated how petulant she sounded. ‘I’d much rather look like Yang. But no matter how I acted today, someone had something to say about it. If I smiled, it was ‘just like Raven’s’. If I was quiet, I was ‘proud and aloof, like her’. If I answered a question I had ‘a fine mind, just like her’. I couldn’t even be angry at Weiss because that would be ‘having my mother’s temper’.’

‘You don’t get along with your mother?’ Pyrrha guessed.

‘She would have had to be around for me to not get along with her.’

Pyrrha’s sympathy was clear on her face, but she was kind enough not to push the issue. Ruby was strangely grateful. She was too used to people murmuring useless apologies when they found out. What did they have to be sorry for? It wasn’t their fault that her mother had decided to be a Grade-A dou-

‘Well, if it helps, I don’t really care about Raven Whatever-her-name was from Team STRQ,’ Pyrrha said firmly. ‘I like Ruby of Team JSPR just fine.’

It should have sounded like a platitude, but it came out so open and honest that Ruby couldn’t find a flaw in the sincerity. Even if the rest of Beacon saw them as the Invincible Girl and Raven Branwen the Second, they’d start off as a blank slate to each other.

And even if everything she did reminded her professors of Raven Branwen, there was one thing that they could never possibly mistake. Raven had forsaken her friends. Ruby would have their backs to the end.

\--------------------------------------

Adam was playing his stupid tin whistle again.

Raven stared at the fire. It was common enough on most nights, especially when she took Vernal and Adam on a hunting trip. And most nights her failures stared right back at her from the embers. The partner she had failed to save. The brother she had lost to his crusade. The lover she had left behind.

And the daughter she had failed to preserve from Ozpin’s claws.

She thought she’d have time. A year or more to approach. To converse. To build enough trust that when she took Ruby away from her pretty, _imaginary_ , life as a huntress, the girl would listen. But Ozpin had stolen a march on her. Something to be expected from a tactician of his experience. Raven had thought herself smarter. Oz had proved her wrong.

Tai had crumbled. Qrow had crumbled. All Raven could do was fume.

Vernal, sensing her mood, was choosing to remain very quiet as she turned the well-worn pages of a battered novel. Adam, lacking the girl’s sense of self preservation, was choosing that moment to make himself a target.

Said targetry was currently sprawled against the log next to her, far too casual a pose for a man within kicking distance. He also seemed to think that now was an excellent time to pull a small Vale tin whistle from the inside of his jacket and set it to his lips.

To the boy’s credit, the notes were soft and sweet. The melody was well practiced (where the hell had he found the time?) and even Vernal was humming along. Ordinarily it would have made a nice change from the two of them attempting to one up each other. Right now? It was grating on each and every one of her nerves.

‘Where did you even get that?’ She growled.

‘Picked it up on the last raid,’ Adam said, either oblivious to her mood or having one of his rare moments of defiance. ‘The guy didn’t need it anymore.’

‘And you waste your time practicing with that instead of your sword?’

He shrugged. ‘Can’t beat up Vernal round the clock.’

Vernal didn’t raise her eyes from her book as she kicked dust over his prone form. ‘Fuck off, Adam.’

Raven frowned, but not at their customary (and quite tiresome) quarrelling. The tune had been familiar, but she couldn’t place it at all. ‘Where did you hear that song?’

Adam glanced at her with a raised eyebrow. ‘That one? You’re always humming it. I thought it was some kind of clan lullaby.’

Vernal snorted. ‘You’ve been with us nine years and you still think we have clan lullabies?’

The boy’s lips curled in an ugly sneer. ‘Suddenly your sunny disposition makes a lot more sense.’

‘Oh, and I’m sure your Mommy sang you all kinds of sweet nothings.’ Vernal clutched both hands to her chest with wide eyes. ‘Right before she sold you to the SDC.’

Adam was halfway to his feet, but Raven beat him to it. Vernal flinched, like she thought Raven might kick her for the comment. Truth was, Raven couldn’t have cared less what insults they threw at each other. She was simply tired of listening to them.

‘I’m going to get some sleep,’ she said. ‘If you want to kill each other, do it quietly.’

They were both smart enough not to take that as an invitation. Vernal returned to her book, Adam to his music. Raven slipped inside her tent, laying on top of her bedroll and listening to the gentle lilt of the tune.

It _was_ a lullaby, she realised. But Vernal was right, it hadn’t come from the Branwen clan. It hadn’t come from Mistral at all.

_‘Speed, little boat, like a gull through the sky. Over the sea to Patch. Carry my darling, safely and spry, Over the sea to Patch…_

_Raven found herself yawning as Summer gently rocked the sleeping girl in her arms. ‘Pretty song.’_

_‘My mother used to sing it to me,’ Summer murmured as she stroked Yang’s soft head of golden hair. ‘And her mother used to sing it to her. Maybe one day Yang will sing it to her own children.’_

_Raven didn’t mind admitting that she found the whole notion bizarre. ‘You city-dwellers are strange people. Qrow and I were just left to cry when we were kids.’_

_‘That explains so much about you.’_

_Raven rolled her eyes. Summer’s sharp tongue worked just fine on Tai and Qrow, but Raven refused to let herself be offended by a pint-sized woman who thought a cloak was cool. ‘I’m serious. We’ve got songs about drinking, fighting, loving, and drinking while fighting and loving while drinking and fighting and everything in between. No kid’s songs, though.’_

_‘You don’t have lullabies at all?’ Summer seemed almost horrified at the thought._

_‘Never really needed them.’_

_‘Every child needs a lullaby,’ her partner declared. ‘Children can’t just be raised on the clash of steel. This won’t do. This won’t do at all. Here.’_

_‘Sum, wait…’ Raven tried to protest as the sleeping bundle was deposited in her arms. She lowered her voice to a whisper. ‘Summer, there is only one person in this world less qualified to hold a baby than me, and that’s only because Qrow’s semblance makes him more of a danger!’_

_‘You’ll be fine, see?’ Summer smiled tenderly as Yang cracked open her silver eyes and gave a wide yawn. ‘She knows she’s safe and sound with Auntie Raven. Now, you try singing to her.’_

_Raven opened her mouth to protest, then zipped it as she felt a tiny hand gripping her forefinger. She looked down to find Yang staring up at her expectantly._

_‘Just give it a try, bounce her a little. That’s right, not too much.’_

_For the sake of peace, Raven finally caved. Her voice was deeper and huskier than Summer’s, but she did her best to mimic her pitch and cadence._

_‘Speed, little boat, like a gull through the sky. Over the sea to Patch. Carry my darling, safely and spry, Over the sea to Patch…’_

_Tiny eyes began to close again. Raven felt a strange sense of satisfaction, a moment before she realised that Summer’s scroll was beeping red as it recorded them._

_‘I hate your mother so much,’ she informed the sleeping child. ‘Just for that, I’m keeping you. You shall grow fierce under my tutelage and become a feared bandit queen.’_

_‘Hey!’ Summer slugged her lightly in the shoulder. ‘That’s my daughter. You’ll just have to corrupt your own.’_

_‘Just let me know when Tai’s free and I’ll get to work on one.’_

_‘My husband. Find your own.’_

_‘But you’ve already done all the hard work of domesticating him,’ Raven pointed out._

_They shared a giggle with that, the smell of Tai’s cooking already wafting up the cabin’s stairs and filling the air with the rich scent of rosemary. For a moment Raven imagined how it might feel to stand here with her own child in her arms, her own husband busying dinner on the stove, her own place to call home._

_Intoxicating, but only a dream. A pleasant fantasy that a weaker woman might have indulged in._

_But Raven had to be strong._

Her eyes snapped open.

Adam and Vernal both glanced up as she lurched out of the tent, red eyes narrowed to slits. Raven snatched the whistle out of Adam’s hands and hurled it over the cliff in a vicious swing.

_‘No!’_ Adam lunged after it, his hand extended. He fell to his hands and knees on the edge, staring after it with forlorn disbelief.

Vernal looked between them, as if unsure whether to laugh at Adam’s misfortune or shy away from Raven’s sudden temper. Adam, on the other hand, stood up with an indignant scowl.

‘That was mine!’ He snapped. ‘How dare you…’

Raven seized a handful of the front of his jacket and kicked his legs out in the same motion. Her pupil slammed into the ground, his mouth opening in a silent cry as Raven replaced her hand with her boot.

‘I don’t care if you play a whistle, a piano or a godsdamned ukulele,’ Raven snarled. ‘But you will _never_ so much as hum that song in my hearing again. Am I understood?

Adam’s defiance had fled as quickly as it came, nodding furiously as he cringed away from her wrath. For a moment he looked as scared as he had when she first caught him stealing food from the camp. She wondered what Summer Rose would have done to that sickly, half-blind boy, too frail to run away? Probably fed him cookies and warm milk and sang him to sleep.

Summer would have made the boy weak. Raven had made him strong.

In time, she would make Ruby strong. When the girl was ready.


	5. a pack of thieves, cowards and murderers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tai and Ruby talked about her sometimes. Not often. Not without pain. But sometimes.
> 
> An apprentice grows to maturity, but Branwens value strength above all else. And strength must be proven anew every single day.

_In every picture Dad still had of her, Ruby noted that Raven’s hair was long and lustrous and as black as the night. So, when her own began to look too similar, Ruby handed Yang a set of scissors and requested a trim. Given her big sister’s lack of professional education in the matters of hair, they were both quite lucky that Dad had intervened before it devolved into a scalping._

_Raven had worn red, so Ruby wore black. Raven had used a sword, so Ruby chose the scythe. Raven had abandoned her family, so Ruby stuck to it like glue._

_Dad noticed first._

_‘You know, trying to be her opposite is also kind of being shaped by her.’ The words were soft and kindly meant, but Ruby would have none of it._

_‘I hate her.’ She ground the words out. At fourteen she was much surer of it than when she’d learned the truth at eight. ‘She left us and I hate her.’_

_The pain in Dad’s eyes made her face screw up in an attempt to keep her own tears hidden away. When she was younger, that face had often proceeded her being showered with hugs and treats until she felt like princess. But she’d grown. Dad’s respect had grown too. No more attempts to stifle her emotions with sugar and toys. He leaned on the staff he’d carved to spar with her and looked at her like she was a grown up._

_‘Don’t for a moment think I’m patronising you, or trying to convince you of something,’ Dad said. ‘I just want you to think carefully about what I say. Why do you hate your mother?’_

_‘She’s not…!’_

_He corrected quickly. ‘Alright, alright, poor phrasing. But think carefully about why you hate her. Was it just for leaving us?’_

_‘What other reason is there? She didn’t give me another reason.’_

_‘…alright, you got me on that one.’ Dad held up his hands in surrender._

_For some reason, it just made Ruby grit her teeth and stamp her feet with sudden irritation. She didn’t know why it put her in a bad mood when he was being reasonable. It just made things worse!_

_‘What did you even see in her?’_

_Dad’s helpless outburst of laughter made her scowl. He keeled over next to her, clutching his ribs as his body was racked with silent shakes._

_‘Amazing.’ He wiped away his tears with a gurgle. ‘My teenage daughter is questioning my taste in women. Qrow’s not going to let me forget this.’_

_It was hard to stay in a bad mood with Dad, especially when he was rolling around in a fit of giggles. She grumpily threw a kick at his ribs. He deftly caught it and pulled her off balance. A brief, fierce struggle ensued, which ended (as it always did) with Ruby pressing his head down into the grass. Zwei eyed the whole thing with the detachment of a superior being, knowing that regardless of who killed who, he’d still get dinner later on._

_‘You did have good taste once,’ Ruby noted once she let him up. ‘With Summer.’_

_‘Did I?’ Dad cocked an eyebrow. ‘When I took Summer out for our first date, Qrow and Raven both asked me what kind of flowers I would like on my grave. On our way into the restaurant, she practically gutted the waitress who said she liked my shirt with just her eyes.’_

_Ruby blinked. ‘But Uncle Qrow said…’_

_‘All the stories your Uncle and I tell about her are absolutely true,’ Dad said. ‘How sweet she was. How kind. How she believed, more than anyone else, in the role of a huntress and their duty to the people. But she wasn’t a perfect person. Sometimes that love of her job was a bad thing. I had to fight tooth and nail to convince her to stay out of the field for a few months after Yang was born. And when she did go back out she sometimes wouldn’t be back for months on end.’_

_‘But Yang has her memories of her. She remembers being held by her. Tucked into bed. The lullabies.’_

_‘Yang was a toddler when Summer died,’ Dad said it simply, but his eyes betrayed him. ‘Raven…well…did I ever tell you how I used to find her with Yang? Curled up asleep on the couch, your sister propped up on her chest, storybooks lying nearby?’_

_Ruby knew what he was trying to do. Soften her animosity to the woman who’d abandoned them both. But where he had sweeter memories than her betrayal, that was all Ruby had to go on._

_‘I want to hear more about Summer,’ she said instead. Dad, as usual, saw through her ploy._

_‘Summer would have loved you, darling. Summer loved everyone who would let her, and even some who didn’t. But if you think she was without flaws, then you’re worshiping an imaginary woman.’ His smile didn’t fade, if anything it grew broader. ‘She was as stubborn as a deaf mule and as mean as a cut snake when she wanted to be.’_

_Ruby blinked. Then shook her head. Then blinked again. ‘That’s…’_

_‘Not what you expected?’ Dad gave a small chuckle. ‘Yang didn’t expect it either. But Team STRQ was made up of some contrary bastards that hated being told what to do. And Summer whipped us all into line with every tool she had. Sometimes love, other times that sharp tongue of hers.’_

_She wasn’t sure what to feel. Upset, maybe, that Dad would disrespect his dead wife like that? But…but he was smiling even as he continued to label her as a neat freak who constantly borrowed Raven’s clothes without asking and had attempted to pick a fight with one of their tutors for suggesting she swap her white hood for a more practical colour._

_‘People are never just one thing, Ruby. Raven isn’t just a cruel villain, just like Summer wasn’t a pure saint.’ He brushed a stray lock away from her cheek and tapped her lightly on the nose. ‘I’m proud that you want to love and honour Summer’s memory. I want you and Yang to learn as much about her as you can. From me and everyone else who loved her. But I don’t want you to hate Raven. Not until you know her yourself.’_

_‘But…why does it matter so much?’ Ruby didn’t understand, and hadn’t from the start. ‘Why even have this conversation?’_

_Dad cradled her face in his hands. Red eyes met blue and his smile faded away. ‘Because you don’t know her enough to hate her. And in the absence of something real to hate, you’re just going to hate the person that most resembles her. I refuse to let that happen.’_

_‘Dad!’ Ruby was beyond indignant. ‘I could never hate Uncle Qrow!’_

_‘Wasn’t talking about him.’ He didn’t shift. ‘You look at those photos so much. I know you’re comparing how you look, how you dress and stand. I don’t want you to carve pieces off yourself out of fear that you might somehow look like your mother.’_

_‘I don’t care if I look like her!’ Ruby bit her lip. ‘I just don’t want to be like her.’_

_‘You won’t be.’ The words were simple, but said with utter certainty. ‘You’ll be your own person. My shining little Ruby…well, not so little anymore, but you get my point.’_

_Ruby sighed as she fell into an awkward kneeling-hug. ‘I guess I did prefer having long hair.’_

_‘I know, honey,’ Dad patted her back sympathetically. ‘It’ll grow back in a year or two.’_

_‘The way you talk about Raven…it’s like you actually want me to meet her’_

_‘Well, it’s more like I can guarantee that you’ll find her yourself one day. I just want you to be ready when you do.’_

\--------------------------------------------

There were only a few pleasures available in a bandit encampment, even in one as developed as that of the Branwen tribe. Comforts and luxuries were all well and good for the city-dwellers, safe and secure behind their walls and armies. For a small band that lived by its wits and guile, unnecessary burdens were just that. Dead weight which could spell death for the unready.

Adam couldn’t remember much about the conditions in the labour camp, but he was almost certain he’d had more books and toys in the children’s quarters at SDC Quarry 14 than he’d owned as a Branwen foundling. Still, the tribe was less liberal with its branding irons than the overseers so it was probably a fair trade. Even if he did miss Mister Snuffles from time to time.

His own personal locker had one or two dog-eared books that he’d stolen from Vernal’s stash. An old radio he’d purchased with a freshly killed deer. A brand-new tin whistle that he’d even purchased himself, albeit with stolen lien (and kept far, far away from Raven whenever she was in a bad mood). It wasn’t much on its own, but at least it was _his._

The Branwen tribe didn’t offer comfort. It offered freedom. And how sweet freedom had been to a malnourished, sickly runt like him. Freedom to eat venison every day if he could hunt it. Freedom to lie at his ease in the sun, if he could dodge Vernal well enough. Freedom to fight back against anyone who crossed him, if he was strong enough.

The mines had encouraged weakness. Jacques Schnee and his minions rewarded strength and weakness alike with the same tasteless gruel for breakfast, the same hard bread and watery stew for lunch and dinner, the same thin blankets, the same half-glass of lime juice to keep the scurvy down. There was no incentive to be strong.

Raven Branwen rewarded strength with roasting cuts of fresh meat, with roaring fires and red wine. If you could win her favour, the rewards were that much greater.

Adam fought hard to keep that favour. And thus he had the privilege of being by her side when she took to the field. Not for him and Vernal the menial tasks of collecting the protection tax from local farmers, they were reserved only for the most difficult of targets. In a world where little and less belonged to those without the strength to protect it, the richest prey were often the most dangerous.

Say what you would for the White Fang, but they were as dangerous as any other animal when trapped.

Steel rang on steel as he traded blows with the hooded faunus before him, the shorter man’s lips bared in a savage grimace as he hacked at him with twin daggers. He was fast, yes, and strong. But what was speed to someone who’d had to scramble for every meal? What was strength against an arm that had swung a pickaxe since it was old enough to pick it up?

‘Bandit scum!’

Adam sidestepped the next attack, backhanding his opponent hard enough to send teeth flying. In the lull of the fight, he took a moment to glance around at the larger battle. It was not going well for any faunus not named Adam Branwen.

Raven had timed their attack well, coming out of the dawn mist as first light shone in the east behind them. A perfect neutralisation of the White Fang’s advantage in night vision, catching most of the ‘freedom fighters’ in their bed rolls or cooking breakfast. Shay and twenty other picked fighters overran the rank and file with knives and small arms. That left seven of the White Fang elites to be dealt with by Raven and her right and left hands.

Vernal was running rings around a smaller woman with light blue hair, easily dodging the webs the spider faunus threw at her and punishing every opening with vicious strikes from her boomerang blades. Another faunus already lay to the side, vicious lacerations on his front and back spelling out the manner of his death.

With his own opponent well and truly in hand, that left four for Raven to deal with.

It was almost pathetically easy. Adam may have been fast, but Raven was a blur. He may have been strong, but the force of her strikes cleaved through carbon steel and aura alike. His mask may have struck fear into his enemies, but her own terrified them into paralysis.

One man’s courage deserted him entirely. He turned to flee, only for a blade of shimmering blue to carve up his spine and through the back of his brain on its way to parry another strike.

Adam was a precocious swordsman. Next to Raven he might as well have been a talented amateur.

‘You…’ The fox faunus had regained his feet, mouth bloody as he circled to the right. ‘Those horns. You’re a faunus, just like us.’

‘Oh no,’ Adam shook his head firmly. ‘Unlike you I am going to be alive in a few minutes.’

‘Why would you butcher your own people?’

‘ _My_ people?’ Adam’s lips twisted, but there was no amusement in his smirk. ‘I have no kinship with the weak.’

‘The White Fang fight for all faunus!’

‘Not very well.’

The man charged at him with a snarl. Adam sheathed Wilt in response, allowing the man to close within arm’s length without so much as a twitch. Only when he could see the white at the edge of the man’s eyes, the beads of sweat streaming from his pores, did he finally deign to draw.

His form was perfect, the blow clean. The faunus fell, blood streaming from his shattered nose, broken cleanly by the hilt of the chokutō. Adam stood over his defeated foe, relishing the rush. To defeat, nay, to _demolish_ an enemy without even granting them the mercy of death? That was a better comfort than any book or toy. Almost as good as his music, really.

‘Is that one still alive?’

‘More or less.’

Raven grunted her approval. The other fox faunus, this one with two furry ears instead of a tail, was on his knees before her, her blade at his throat. ‘Bring him here.’

When Adam had finished dragging the groaning man over by his hood, Raven finally removed her mask and fixed both men with the full weight of her stare.

‘I gave you fair warning.’ Cold red eyes were narrowed to slits, unforgiving beneath heavy lids. ‘The Central Wildlands belong the Branwens, not the Fang.’

‘High Leader Khan will have your head for this!’

‘She can try. Tell her this. This one time, I send her messengers. The next time, I will send her heads. The third, I will come myself.’

The taller one struggled to stand. ‘You have made a powerful enemy, Branwen!’

Raven smiled faintly. ‘No…I have made _an_ enemy. There is a difference. Go. Before I decide one messenger will suit just as well as two.’

\---------------------

Nothing was wasted as they pillaged the camp. Everything was useful, from the surprisingly high-quality weapons down to the canvas of the tents. The children and those too weak to fight poured in after the gunfire stopped and stripped even the bodies down to their skin.

Fighters, of course, got first pick. Adam helped himself to a silver ring with ruby studs and a jar of prime Vale-grown coffee beans. There were richer prizes, but it never hurt to show a little restraint.

‘Adam, come here.’ Raven was reading through a stack of letters. He moved toward her quickly, perhaps she was asking for his advice on their new White Fang problem. A mark of favour for him above Vernal, certainly, and one that he…

He never saw the fist coming that knocked him to the ground. He did hear Vernal’s reflexive laughter in the background as he groaned.

‘Never toy with an opponent like that again.’ She hadn’t taken her eyes off the correspondence in her hands. ‘No slapping, choking or any other stupid power moves. Fight to win quickly or you’ll probably die slowly. Understand?’

Adam spat out a mouthful of dust as he pushed himself onto his hands and knees. ‘Yes Chief.’

‘Clean yourself up. Be back at camp in an hour.’

Vernal was still giggling as he rose unsteadily to his feet. ‘That looked like it hurt.’

‘Pain equals retention of memory,’ Adam recited. It was one of the first lessons Raven had instilled in them when they became her apprentices. ‘Besides, what do you have to cackle about? You cop it at least as much as I do.’

‘Yeah, but it’s just funnier when it happens to you.’ She wiped her eyes. ‘Like a kicked puppy, really.’

‘I’ll defer to your superior experience kicking puppies.’ Adam slipped his mask off his face to wipe away the sweat with his jacket sleeve. Mistral springs were chilly before dawn, but brutally humid as soon as the sun came up. ‘Besides, compared to the mines her lessons are like a massage.’

‘Always the mines with you. Mines this. Schnee that. You’re like a broken record.’ The tilt in her head and the smirk on her lips showed exactly what she thought of that. ‘You need new material. Maybe a new scar? I could help you out with that.’

‘Whatever.’ His eyes traveled to the book in her hands. ‘Where’d you get that from?’

She shrugged. ‘Found it one of the trunks. Whole stack of them. Classical romances, murder mysteries. A surprisingly large collection of hardcore smut.’

‘Huh, guess even terrorists have needs.’

‘Guess so.’ Vernal flipped the paperback over, a quizzical frown on her face. ‘Strange thing is, there was some other stuff in there. Girls clothes, some letters. It was all packaged up with a mailing slip on it.’

‘Well, they were on their way to Mistral,’ Adam noted. ‘Maybe they were shipping it to an adult bookstore in Menagerie?’

‘Nah, it was a mailing address in Vale. Beacon, actually.’ Vernal scratched her head as if trying to remember. ‘Bella Ebony, I think it was addressed to? That name mean anything to you?’

‘Nope.’

‘And there’s a name scrawled inside the cover of this one.’ Vernal stooped to pick up another book. ‘ _Property of Blake Belladonna._ Sound familiar?’

Adam stared at her blankly. ‘Who the fuck is that?’

Vernal shrugged. ‘Eh, who cares? They’re my books now. Here, you can have this one.’

He caught the book on reflex, eyeing its cover with a faint sneer. ‘ _Ninjas of Love?_ Something tells me this isn’t a manual on stealth and infiltration.’

Flipping it open, his eyes immediately rested on an intricately detailed and anatomically impossible illustration. Despite himself, he whistled.

‘Now that’s a wakizashi.’


	6. 'the girl who got what she wanted'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team JSPR lags behind Team BYRN, under the capable leadership of Bella Ebony. But is the enigmatic girl's authority truly as unquestioned as it seems?
> 
> Weiss approaches Professor Peach with concerns about her team leader's competence. Ruby can't help but wonder if Team JSPR is already doomed to repeat the mistakes of STRQ.

‘How do you do it?’ Weiss demanded as she flopped down onto Yang’s bed.

Yang already knew the heiress wasn’t addressing her. They’d only known each other for a few weeks, but in that time Weiss had made it abundantly clear that of all the people in team BYRN that she didn’t have time for, she had time for Yang the least. The question was addressed to their leader, instead.

Bella Ebony lifted her head out of her book to spare Weiss an idle glance. ‘Do what?’

‘Make a functioning team out of…this,’ Weiss waved her hands around. ‘No offence.’

‘None taken,’ Ren murmured.

‘Eh,’ Yang shrugged.

‘What are we talking about?’ Nora strolled out of the shower half a second before Ren and Yang both flung towels at her.

‘Weiss was just casually insulting us. You know, the usual.’ Yang finished with her stitching, then critically eyed her cloak. The hood had been torn quite badly by the encounter with the Nevermore. If not for Bella’s leadership, she might have gotten quite a bit more damage than just the claw marks.

‘I wasn’t insulting you, I was complimenting Bella.’ Weiss re-adjusted her skirts. ‘There is a significant difference.’

Yang just smiled agreeably at her. It was scarce a wonder that Weiss had managed to set off Ruby’s hair-trigger temper every day for the last week now. Yang counted herself lucky on two fronts. First, that she’d inherited Dad’s more mellow temperament. Second, that her team was a surprisingly chilled out environment.

Her heart had initially sunk when Ozpin had declared that the aloof bookworm in the black beanie would be their team-leader, but Bella had proven to be as adept at organising sleeping arrangements, cleaning rosters and shower schedules as she was at giving fire control orders and flanking instructions. And, despite the volatility of her own partner and the seemingly placid nature of Bella’s, the two were certainly no slouches in class or on the field.

Ruby, on the other hand…

‘It’s like they barely listen to me at all!’ Weiss was complaining. ‘I’ve made plans for meal timings. Study sessions. Extra team training. They’ve ignored all of it.’

Bella flicked over the page. ‘Tragic.’

‘I know!’ Weiss buried her face in her hands. ‘Pyrrha is a championship fighter! Ruby is meant to be advanced enough to skip two full years! Jaune is…well, he was good enough to be accepted, wasn’t he? So why aren’t any of them listening to me?’

‘Perhaps because you’re not the appointed team leader?’ She flicked another page.

‘Pfft, I have more qualities of leadership than that…that _blonde_ ,’ Weiss hissed. She glanced back to Yang. ‘No offence.’

‘Just a little bit taken, if I’m being honest,’ Yang held up two fingers to indicate that the offence was minimal at best.’

‘I have all the necessary qualifications, all the training, I’ve been practically groomed from birth for leadership,’ Weiss tossed her hair. ‘Why can’t I get them in line? What am I missing?’

‘A compelling reason to be here?’

Weiss froze. Yang froze. Ren was already stationary. Nora hummed happily as she pulled on a pink nightgown.

Bella snapped her book closed, apparently surrendering her attempts at progression. ‘I look around my team, Schnee, and you know what I see? People who know just how hard life can get. Nora and Ren grew up in the wild, on the streets and in a state-orphanage in that order. Yang lost her mother to this job. I lost my father to monsters. What have you ever lost? A pretty doll down the side of your four-post bed, maybe?’

Yang shot Weiss a glance, expecting to see the heiress retaliate in a blaze of indignant wrath. Instead, Weiss was still stationary, eyes blank like she’d just been shot between the eyes.

‘That’s not…I wasn’t saying that…’ The shorter girl almost whimpered.

‘Let’s look at your team,’ Bella stood, yellow eyes bright with barely concealed disdain. ‘The Invincible Girl? Pyrrha Nikos herself. But she doesn’t hide behind her name or fame. Everything she has, she wins on merit. Ruby? She made a rogue huntsman turn tail and run on her own. And Jaune…’

She had to pause. ‘Well, I don’t really know what’s special about him, but you know what he’s not doing? Whining and wailing to another team leader about how his team doesn’t respect him, so he’s _still_ ahead of you in my books.’

Weiss opened and closed her mouth several times, but no words came out. Shoulders slumped, she stood from the bed, barely registering Nora’s attempts to say goodnight. Even when the door closed there was no sound in the room. Not until Ren rose from his bed to stand face to face with Bella.

‘Bella.’

‘Yes, Ren?’

‘Whilst I understand the point you were making, you will never again use my personal losses as a tool to hurt someone else.’ It wasn’t a request, nor a threat. It was a plain statement of fact.

‘Mine neither,’ Nora agreed, her voice unusually flat.

Bella glanced at Yang. Yang found her own eyes narrowed and her mouth tight with disappointment. It was perhaps the first moment of genuine emotion she’d seen from the older girl. Unfortunately, it was also the most vicious thing she’d ever seen.

‘She’s not worth defending.’ Another strange statement, considering how little any of them had spoken to the heiress. Nor was it said defensively, like someone who’d made a mistake but wanted to cover it. Like Ren, she stated it as a fact.

‘I disagree, but that is irrelevant,’ Ren said. ‘Rather, her experiences and motivations to be a huntress have offended you in some way, but they do not trouble me. Therefore, you will keep my name out of your mouth when using it to degrade her.’

Bella was still for a moment. Something flashed behind her eyes, the same spark that Yang had seen right before her team leader had cut the heiress down to the stumps. Something told her that any conflict between Ren and his partner would be far more physical than verbal.

‘Whatever,’ Bella broke away from him, grabbing her towel and toiletries bag. ‘I’m grabbing a shower then making a scroll call. Don’t wait up.’

Any hope that Yang had that it ended there was crushed when Bella swivelled in the doorway.

‘And for the record, Ren? The Schnee came to me with a question. She wanted to know why her team won’t obey her. I gave her exactly what she wanted.’

\----------------------------

_‘My first detention_ ,’ Ruby shoved herself down into one of the many empty seats in the Grimm Studies lecture theatre. _‘And it had to be on a Friday…’_

It was unavoidable, she knew. Technically it wasn’t even a detention at all, but a remedial studies class mandated by Dad and executed with clinical efficiency with the (temporary) Grimm Studies professor. As promised, Dad knew her well and she _did_ like him more than she liked Ruby.

Though, just _how_ well Professor Thumbelina Peach knew Taiyang Xiao-Long, Ruby would rather not know. Not only because Dad was old and thinking of such things would be gross (Ruby had been found in the rosegarden, carried in by the Autumn Stork, Uncle Qrow had said so) but because Professor Peach herself was slightly…

‘Won’t have time for me in your busy schedule?’ Peach sat at the table, boots propped up on the lacquered wood as she ferocious worked the edge of a throwing knife over an oilstone. She’d been muttering furiously to herself since before the start of the session. Something about someone called ‘ _James’ and ‘not being denied this time’._ ‘We’ll see about that, Jimmy. Oh we shall see…’

Ruby had brought her headphones, of course. And of course, she had forgotten to charge them. Still, wearing them and focusing intently on her textbook had spared her from having to politely ooh and ah over the intricate collection of knives displayed across the table. _How many knives did one woman need?_

There was a knock at the classroom door a moment before Weiss Schnee poked her head through it. The heiress nervously glanced up at Ruby, who in turn kept her head firmly fixed on the dense language concerning the Faunus Rights Revolution. Satisfied that Ruby was unaware or unconcerned with her presence, Weiss finally stepped inside.

‘Professor Peach?’ The timbre of her voice was unfamiliar to Ruby. She was so used to the older girl throwing around her (not considerable) weight that it was bizarre to hear her speaking with something akin to humility. ‘Did you get my message?’

‘Yes, yes, come in, child.’ The professor took her boots off the desk, then reached inside to pull out a thermos. ‘Hot chocolate?’

‘Um, no?’ Weiss tried to decline, but Peach was already pouring the rich mixture into two white mugs. ‘Oh…thank you.’

‘Now, how can I help you?’

‘Professor, I think there’s been a mistake with my team.’ Once more Weiss glanced up at Ruby. Ruby had already re-arranged her hair to conceal her mounting anger. ‘Jaune Arc…he’s incompetent. He can’t fight. He can’t lead. I don’t know how he made it into Beacon at all.’

‘Same way you did, by passing initiation.’

‘But I practically _carried_ him the whole way!’

‘Oh, so you _do_ know how he got into Beacon, then?’ Peach had returned to her knives, carefully weighting each one on her finger to test the balance. ‘Well, I’m sorry to say that I don’t make the rules. Regardless of background or ability, if a student passes initiation then they’re here for four years.’

‘Even if they don’t deserve to be?’

Ruby almost lost her cool, her knees bumping against the desk as she started to rise. Only Professor Peach’s amused retort calmed the words bubbling up her throat.

‘Let’s stay clear of talking about what people deserve. They seldom get it. Did you have a specific problem that you believe I can help with, or is this merely you venting your frustrations about your team leader?’

‘A specific problem,’ Weiss smoothed her skirts, taking a deep breath like she was about to plunge into cold water. ‘I’ve been reviewing the Beacon student handbook…’

‘They’re still printing that thing?’

‘…from cover to cover.’ Weiss pressed on gamely. ‘And there are provisions in the school’s charter for a team leader to be removed. I would like to invoke one of those provisions and I need a supporting statement from a professor.’

‘What provision would that be?’

‘Being unable or incapable of performing their duties.’

This time Ruby didn’t try to rise. What was the point in doing so? Weiss wasn’t technically wrong. As much as she didn’t like watching Weiss browbeat the nervous boy, it wasn’t any better watching him fumble his way through their first team exercises. Maybe, _and she didn’t like it at all_ , but maybe it was better for Team JSPR to have someone at the top who knew what they were doing. Professor Peach must have been thinking the same, for her face showed no anger or indignation, only curiosity.

‘And you believe that you would be the natural replacement for Mr. Arc?’

‘I do,’ Weiss said quickly, her confidence building as the professor didn’t immediately refuse her. ‘I have all the necessary qualities for leadership. Intelligence, strength, perception, charisma.’

‘And modesty, too.’

Weiss set her jaw. ‘It would be false modesty to play down my own qualities.’

Ruby watched, half hoping that that Peach would finally cut the Ice Queen down to size. Unbidden, images of the black-haired woman rose to her mind. The woman who had torn Team STRQ apart through her pride and ego. She was sure that this must have been what Raven was like at that age. She was disappointed when the professor simply nodded.

‘Well, you’ve convinced me,’ Peach said. ‘So how will you do it?’

‘Pardon?’

‘How will you secure the loyalty of Team Jasper, or whatever we decide to call it after you assume command? I’ll need something to take to Ozpin, after all.’

‘Of course,’ Weiss bounced her head so hard Ruby wondered if it might come off. ‘That’s only logical. I would immediately begin Jaune on an intense training regimen to build up his basic skills and fitness. My goal would be to turn him into a productive member of the team by the end of the year.’

‘Oh? And what’s stopping you from doing that now?’

Weiss paused. Well, paused was the wrong word. She stopped dead in her tracks like Peach had struck her with a poleax. ‘I…what do you mean?’

‘I mean is there any restriction that says you can’t offer to help your team leader improve his skills? You would all be better off for it, regardless of who is leader.’

‘I suppose…’

‘Something to consider, I suppose.’ Peach returned her attention to her knives. They were a beautiful collection, that much was obvious. Well cared for, and each one engraved with an intricate butterfly. ‘What else have you got?

‘I…I would build trust and gain the loyalty of Pyrrha and Ruby.’

‘How?’

‘Well, by example of course.’

‘Is there anything stopping you from doing that now?’

Once more Weiss was stopped in her tracks. ‘Well…’

‘Will you try anything else? Buy their loyalty with lien, perhaps? You certainly have the coffers for it.’

‘What? No!’

‘Ah. Will you command it with fear, then?’ Peach held up a punch dagger, inspecting the edge before shaving a few hairs off her forearm to test it. ‘Your family has a reputation. Certainly you could make some implied threats toward their future careers. Perhaps even make some veiled commentary about Jaune’s family finances.’

If she tried it then Ruby would put her straight through the nearest window.

‘I don’t want that at all!’ Weiss almost stamped her foot. ‘I want their respect, not their fear!’

‘I know,’ Peach said. She placed the knife down and leaned forward. ‘So how are you going to earn it?’

‘I…I don’t know.’ Weiss trailed off, her eyes falling to the desk. ‘I don’t know. No one’s ever shown me how.’

Her eyes darted up a second later, like she was trying to snatch back the words the moment they left her lips. Ruby understood. Such an admission must have been fatal to her. An admission of weakness, of a flaw in her education and rearing. Less than perfect.

Ruby almost sympathy for her.

Peach stood, the woman’s face inscrutable as she came around the table. She towered over Weiss, the young girl flinching as Peach gently rested her hands on her shoulders.

‘Tell me Weiss, do you respect me?’

‘Y-yes,’ Weiss stammered out. ‘Of course I do.’

‘Why?’

‘You’re a professor of Beacon.’

‘Hmm, is that all?’

Ruby felt as confused as Weiss looked. The girl had stumbled again, and Ruby couldn’t even blame her for it. Peach was leading the conversation around in circles, asking question after question instead of just giving Weiss the information. It was a bizarre teaching style.

‘If, for a strange example, you had walked into my classroom and seen a fat, flirting old man twenty years past his best, would you still respect the position of a professor?’

‘Um…surely there would be a reason he was in that position?’

‘Oh, so you would look past such a poor first impression?’

The silence said it all.

‘And our little conversation right now. Suppose you had come to me in good faith and I had done nothing but berate you for your temerity? Would you have respected me for that?’

‘Of course not!’ Weiss grasped it at the same time as Ruby. ‘You respect me enough to hear me out.’

‘Yes. Yes! You’re so close, Weiss!’

‘I respect you,’ Weiss said, ‘because you respect me!’

The weighty slap that caught Weiss on the shoulder almost sent her flying. ‘Good, Weiss! Now, extra marks if you can tell me why?’

Her smile froze, but Peach just burst out laughing. ‘That was a little cruel. I will give you this one for free. I respect you, Weiss Schnee, because you have volunteered to become a huntress, and I am a teacher of huntresses. You have wagered your life on the training that I and my fellow staff have promised you.’

Her smile faded. ‘I do not take such a responsibility lightly. You might live or die based on my instructions. That is why I rise at four o’clock in the morning to prepare myself for the day. It is why I rehearse my lectures at least twice before I deliver them. It is why my gear is always prepped for action and why I do not allow myself to go slack and lazy despite the relative ease of this position. I spar with Glynda in the morning and Barty in the evenings to keep myself sharp. I attend seminars, in person when I can and online when I cannot. Because I must be better tomorrow than I am today. Your life and the lives of all my students depend on it.’

She leaned closer. ‘ _All_ of my students. Not just the brightest or the most talented. The least of you is as worthy of my best efforts as the greatest.’

‘Which means…’ Weiss took a deep breath. ‘That Jaune deserves mine as much as Pyrrha and Ruby.’

Peach gave her shoulder one last squeeze. ‘Clever girl.’

Weiss squared her shoulders and set her jaw. In that instant Ruby fancied that she looked less like a girl, more like the huntress she might one day become. ‘I’ll train him myself. Day and night until he’s the finest swordsman in Beacon.’

‘Behind yourself of course?’ Peach teased, but Weiss no longer blushed.

‘My goal should be to push him beyond me, so I have someone to help push me even further. I…I still want to be the best. But…’

‘The best amongst the best.’ Peach settled back in her chair and raised her mug of hot chocolate. ‘I’ll send you a few manuals that might be helpful to you. I’d recommend starting with the writings of Master Sheffield. Carry on, Miss Sch…’

Weiss had already departed, sprinting out of the classroom like a woman possessed. Peach took a long, satisfied pull at her drink before kicking back with a pleased sigh.

‘Alright, Miss Xiao-Long, you can stop pretending now. Come on down.’

Ruby blushed, but obeyed. Loading her books back into her schoolbag, she dragged her feet approaching the professor.

‘Oh buck up, girl, I’m not going to scold you.’ Peach had produced another mug and pushed it across the table. ‘This is an adult learning environment, not a primary school. Come now, I’m sure you must have something to say after all of that.’

‘You were too easy on her,’ Ruby mumbled.

‘What was that? Speak up now, I’ve had far too many heavy artillery pieces go off near my head.’

‘I said you were too easy on her!’ Ruby snapped. ‘She came in here, throwing her weight around, undermining Jaune like she was entitled to be the team leader and you just let her get away with it!’

‘Really?’ Peach picked her nails with one of her daggers, eyes never leaving Ruby’s. ‘I thought she was bringing a pressing problem to the attention of the school staff?’

‘Only because it benefited her!’

‘And who does it benefit when Jaune Arc gets himself killed because he’s a poor fighter? Or worse, gets one of you killed because he has no tactical acumen or leadership skills?’

Ruby suddenly realised how Weiss must have felt, skewered like a deer by one of Peach’s questions.

‘Love her or hate her, Miss Schnee recognised a problem with the team and took action to solve it. The right action? No. But she was willing to accept guidance on the matter. I am far less disappointed in her than I am in you and Miss Nikos.’

Ruby recoiled like she’d been struck. ‘That’s not fair, I…’

‘Was perfectly content to sit back and enjoy your partnership with the Invincible Girl, whilst your team leader was pummelled and Miss Schnee tore her hair out? Or perhaps you were waiting for your first training mission? After all, with Miss Schnee burdened with an incapable partner and trying to do both her job and his, mistakes might have happened. You might have been rid of both your inconveniences.’

‘No, no that’s not it at all.’ Ruby bit her lip. ‘You’re just twisting everything up. I don’t want Weiss or Jaune dead!’

‘Then why are you pre-emptively endangering their lives? Miss Schnee has been booking sparring rings. The firing range. Study rooms. None of you have shown up.’

‘Because she’s awful. She’s mean and bossy and crabby if you don’t listen to her…’

‘Miss Xiao-Long, I don’t care if you like Miss Schnee,’ Peach said. Her voice never rose above its measured cadence, but her eyes were like chips of flint. ‘I don’t care if you’re friends with her. Friendship is irrelevant to teamwork. And you are a team. Once you go into the field, love her or hate her, you will depend on her to watch your back as she will watch yours. She has put her life into your hands. And if I suspect for a second that you do not value it then I will make it my personal mission to ensure you never graduate from this institution.’

‘I would never do that!’

‘Then why are you refusing to put in any effort to help develop your team.’

‘I’m not the leader…’ She couldn’t keep the mutinous rumble out of her voice, even as she folded her arms.

‘You should be.’

Ruby was taken aback. _I…should be leader?_ ‘But I thought you said…’

‘Just as Miss Schnee should be. And Miss Nikos. You all should be leaders.’

‘But Jaune…’

‘Mr Arc is your commander. But Miss Schnee was right, he isn’t the best person for the job, no more than Ozpin is the best headmaster for Beacon or James Ironwood is the best general for the Atlesian military.’ Her eyes narrowed at the last one. ‘Despite what he seems to think. But they hold those positions because someone must. It does not prevent you from being a leader. From making your voice heard. Are you really going to let Weiss be the loudest voice in the room?’

Ruby bit her lip, remembering what Dad used to say about the ferocious arguments in STRQ. The full-blown brawls between Summer and Qrow in the vain attempt to make him clean up after himself. JSPR hadn’t had any brawls. They’d barely had anything. They certainly hadn’t gone out for ice cream together like STRQ used to.

‘But she always thinks she’s right…’ She hated the whine in her voice, but it was unmistakable once she said the words.

‘Then challenge her. Let her challenge you. Compete. Argue. Have a damn screaming match if you wish. Have the courage to be right or wrong and learn from it. She has much to offer you. And you have things to offer her. The only incorrect action is no action at all.’

‘And…if that undermines Jaune?’

‘It will only undermine him if he refuses to learn. To _grow_. And if that happens, I will see to his expulsion myself. But I think he might surprise you. Just as I think Weiss Schnee will surprise you.’

Her shoulders slumped. This hadn’t been what she wanted. How could people who nominally had the same goal be so hard to deal with? ‘I just hoped I could…be friends with my teammates.’

‘Ruby…’ Peach took her hand. Rough and callused her own might have been, but she held Ruby’s fingers with gentle grace. ‘There is so much more to being a huntress than just looking out for your friends. Being a huntress means putting others before yourself, and that starts with your team. And I know that’s easy to do when they’re sweet and friendly like Pyrrha and Jaune, and so much harder to do when they’re…like Weiss.’

Ruby hunger her head, almost ashamed that Peach had taken her apart so easily. The professor chucked her gently under the chin.

‘Be patient with her, Ruby. She isn't Raven Branwen.' Ruby flinched at the name, but Peach didn't relent. 'And you aren't either. Give her another chance. Give her as many as you can stomach. That’s all I ask. I believe there is as much greatness in her as there is in you. Maybe friendship will come. Maybe it won’t. Are you afraid to try?’

She shot bolt upright, energy suddenly coursing through her limbs. ‘I’m not afraid. I’ll train Jaune too. I’ll train him twice as well as Weiss can.’

‘Well that’s not exactly what I was…’

‘I’ll show Weiss that she’s _not_ always right.’

‘Okay, well a little healthy debate is…’

‘I’ll make sure Team JSPR is ready for the Vytal Tournament,’ Ruby vowed with grim certainty. ‘And when we win, we’re going out for ice cream.’

Peach was left standing alone as the girl shot out of the classroom, a sudden cry of alarm coming from some poor soul she’d just run over outside. A worried frown suddenly creased her brow.

‘Oh dear.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Professor Peach teaches Weiss and Ruby the power of respect, dooming poor Jaune in the process.
> 
> All jokes aside, the way Port shuts down Weiss in the show is just...horrible advice, and not something I would ever say to a student I'm supposed to be teaching and mentoring, particularly in a school meant to be teaching combat and teamwork. Especially since she's protesting what she sees as an inadequate choice of leader. Port doesn't address Weiss' concerns, nor does he build Ruby up. He just breaks Weiss down without giving her any meaningful advice about a path forward.
> 
> Let's just assume Jaune was off getting a pep-talk about leadership from Ozpin at this point in time.


	7. 'the girl who swore an oath'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the bonds between JSPR grow, BYRN begins to struggle and stall. Yang wonders why Bella Ebony is even attending Beacon when she doesn't want to be there. When a war begins half a world away, where will the enigmatic girl's loyalties truly lie?

_‘You will go to Beacon and enrol as a student there. We’ve set you up with a new identity, one we’re confident will stand up to any scrutiny.’ Sienna pressed a hand to her shoulder, her smile wide and kind. ‘This is exactly the opportunity we have been waiting for.’_

_Blake shook her head. ‘I’m needed here, in the Disputed Zone. The militia’s attacks are getting worse. The huntsmen that Vale promised aren’t enough.’_

_‘Which is why we will continue to hit the militia’s munitions depots and training camps,’ Sienna said mildly. ‘But those attacks can be handled by the rank and file. You are capable of more.’_

_‘My team are the best fighters you have! You can’t just…’_

_‘Am I not the High Leader?’_

_‘You are but…’_

_‘And did you not swear an oath by your blood and by our people?’_

_Blake lowered her head, anger bleeding away as she clicked to her mistress’ intent. ‘I stand by my oaths. If you command me to go to Beacon, I will obey.’_

_The silence hung heavy between them, the noise of the camp outside drifting through the thick canvas of the command tent. Blake’s eyes searched the maps, the radios, the worn camp stools. Anywhere but straight ahead._

_Sienna’s hand gently chucked her under the chin. ‘Blake…forgive me.’_

_Her head snapped up. Of all the words she had expected, they had not been._

_‘It is hard for me to forget you were the shy girl who sat on my knee and begged for stories of Vacuo and Vale.’ Sienna’s eyes brightened at the memory. ‘Harder to forget that you have been my student for the last five years. But it does not excuse me treating you with such disrespect.’_

_‘High Leader…’_

_‘You are dear to me, Blake. But you are also the finest fighter and most daring commander in the White Fang. You will be the one to take over when I am gone. And for that, you require a better education than any we can provide you.’_

_‘But you’re asking me to leave the fight for four years…’_

_‘No.’ Sienna shook her head. ‘I am asking you to be the woman who will lead our people to a prosperous future. The future your father gave his life for.’_

\------------------------------------

‘Now parry. Again. Watch your footwork. I will not have my partner and team leader be torn apart by Grimm because of poor footwork.’

‘Yes ma’am!’

‘Stop calling me that.’

‘Yes ma’…I mean, yes Weiss.’

A soft smile spread across Yang’s face. ‘Well…how about that?’

Bella flicked her eyes down the slope, where the back lawn of Beacon functioned as a kind of improvised training ground for the four members of Team JSPR. Steel rang on steel as Pyrrha Nikos drove Jaune backwards. Not an uncommon sight either in class or out of it. But today offered some differences.

A week ago Jaune would have stumbled, tripped over his own laces and nearly impaled himself on his own weapon. Now his stance was wide and low, knees absorbing the impact of Pyrrha’s blows as he moved shield and sword in somewhat synchronised fashion. He still fell back, but he gathered his feet beneath him with each step, feeling out the ground behind him with his backfoot before withdrawing. A good thing too, since Weiss and Ruby had scattered dozens of small obstacles around the training ground to teach him situational awareness.

Nora seemed to agree with Yang. ‘He’s really picking it up in leaps and bounds. I’m a little surprised.’

‘Much is possible when the heart of a student and the mind of a teacher are in harmony,’ Ren opined. He managed to sound quite wise despite his head resting in Nora’s lap. ‘Jaune’s determination to better himself is matched only by Weiss’ desire to see him improve. I believe she has the makings of a gifted combat instructor.’

‘Heh, runs in the family.’ Nora tugged at Ren’s hair, both of them smiling as if at some inside joke.

Bella narrowed her eyes. ‘There are no combat instructors in the Schnee family history. Nicholas Schnee was a businessman and his daughter was a socialite.’

Nora and Ren shared a knowing look that just confused her even more. ‘Of course,’ Ren said. ‘Nora must have been thinking of Ruby’s family.’

It didn’t answer anything, but trying to get a straight answer out of the orphan pair was an exercise in futility. Bella rolled back over to focus on her book, but her eyes still strayed back down to the training fields.

‘I’m sure she’s getting something out of it.’

Yang sighed. There was more annoyance in the sound than there usually was. ‘You just can’t give her anything, can you? She’s putting in the effort to make her team better, isn’t she?’

‘You’re naïve if you think that’s for their benefit.’

The Schnee was covered in sweat and dirt, as was the rest of her team. Two weeks now they’d been at this. For almost two hours after last class JSPR could be found slugging it out on the back lawn. First the Schnee had rebuilt his entire stance and grip, then had him hack at a dummy for short, high intensity intervals until his cuts and thrusts were textbook perfect. She ran laps with him, coached him through lifting weights,

Bella couldn’t even critique her for overtraining him. Weiss had him eating three huge meals a day, his breakfast plate piled high with egg-white omelettes and bacon, and his lunch and dinner likewise stacked with brown rice, chicken or steak and broccoli. In between classes she had him snacking on protein bars, dried fruit and nuts. Twice a week she had simply made their daily training an extended stretch and recovery session.

She didn’t know why it frustrated her that the Schnee was running a balanced, progressive and tailored training program. Or that Jaune seemed to be improving rapidly.

Maybe it was that the Schnee was certain to take the credit for it?

\----------------------------

‘Oh, I can’t take any credit.’ Weiss flopped down next to Ruby, accepting the piled plate with a grateful nod. ‘Jaune is a very devoted student and Pyrrha’s been handling most of his sparring. I got the training program off my sister. It’s the same one they use for accelerated strength and conditioning at Atlas Academy.’

It sounded hollow to her ears After all, why _shouldn’t_ she take the credit? She was the one putting in the bulk of the extra hours. Still, the books that Professor Peach had sent her were very specific on that point. If one wished to be a leader, they should push the praise onto others. The book wasn’t specific as to why, but Weiss had faith in Peach’s teachings. Not quite as much in her mental stability, but…

‘So I was thinking of a pair move earlier,’ Jaune piped up from beside her. His movements were a little stiff despite their extended cooldown. Weiss passed him an extra helping of potato bake, the fat and carbohydrates would help his muscles recover faster. ‘I could act as a shield for Ruby as we move, and she can take shots over my shoulder.’

Ruby considered it for a moment. ‘We’d still be pretty vulnerable if we were moving. Maybe make it a fixed move when we have limited cover?’

‘I do like the idea of those with shields protecting those without.’ Pyrrha leaned over the table, using two salt shakers to demonstrate. ‘It can be a rapid transition instead, with either Jaune or I closest to the threat. That way we can absorb hits with our shields and armour.’

Weiss nodded along, another modification occurring to her. ‘And you and Pyrrha could also overlap shields as well. If I put up ice walls on either side, it could channel an approaching enemy straight into a shield wall.’

‘Alright then,’ Jaune nodded. ‘We’ll wargame it tonight and rehearse it in the morning. Just in time for our four on four with CRDL tomorrow afternoon.’

Weiss couldn’t hide a pleased smile. She’d asked Winter to send some manuals on small-unit tactics. Strangely, Beacon didn’t seem to offer any specialised instruction for the team leaders. No matter, Jaune was adapting well to the theoretical concepts honed in combat by the cream of the Atlas military. Planning ahead, scheduling team practice, taking ideas from his subordinates, he might actually become a leader she could be proud of. And that would mean JSPR would be a team she could be proud of.

_‘Would you cut it out?’_

The team’s gaze flicked further down. Nora had whipped her hand back to her side, a guilty expression on the girl’s face. Bella was scowling at her, the plate of fish and chips in front of her having been severely diminished and not by her own hand.

‘Nora really isn’t much for personal space, huh?’ Ruby sounded more amused than anything else. Like it was just some kind of team bickering, playful banter amongst comrades. Weiss wasn’t so sure.

If Team JSPR had been soaring ahead in teamwork, BYRN had regressed. Perhaps not in training, they still worked more or less without issue. But the comfortable silences amongst them had become decided less so. Ren was frowning at both Nora and Bella, Yang’s smile was like wax and Bella was outright scowling at the redhead.

Weiss glanced back to where Jaune was tossing mini-dumplings into the air, Ruby catching them effortlessly in her mouth. Two weeks ago she would have been horrified at such poor table manners. Now the two of them goofing off felt…comfortable. Familiar and warm, like Pyrrha’s indulgent smile.

She might have been surrounded by idiots, but at the very least they were likeable idiots. And who knew? Maybe in time she could even call them friends. Now wouldn’t that be a surprise for Winter when she…

Dove and Russel barrelling past her was enough to throw off her train of thought.

‘Hey!’

‘Sorry!’ Dove yelped, the impact with her shoulder enough to stagger him. ‘You guys have to see this! Sky, get it up on the big screen.’

The attention of the dining hall turned toward the boys as they fumbled with the controls. The cafeteria had been fitted with a large flatscreen at one end for the purpose of movie nights or watching sports matches. When the first pictures came up on screen, Weiss thought it might have been the former. After all, the images of burning vehicles, crumbling buildings and sporadic gunfire would have suited any Spruce Willis movie to the letter.

It was a false hope.

_‘…latest images show the full extent of the carnage wrought by the so-called ‘Citizen’s Militia’ of Southern Mistral, after the Hidden Valley Brigade bypassed the Vale peacekeeping force at Fort Castle several days ago. According to our correspondent on the ground, at least six hundred fighters struck Menagerie settlements at Harvest, Lagune’s Folly and Blackrock Bay. The death toll is currently in the hundreds and rising, with elevations in Grimm activity expected to dramatically increase.’_

There was uneasy rumbling across the hall. Most of the faunus students shot angry looks at those from Mistral. Some looked nervous, others defiant. Pyrrha looked horrified. Her hand pressed to her mouth, her eyes locked onto the images of the carnage.

‘Those poor people…’ She whispered. ‘How could they do this?’

Weiss couldn’t help but agree. Disputing over farmland and fishing grounds was one thing. This was…

‘Utterly barbaric,’ she said. The sentiment seemed to be shared high and low. Even Cardin Winchester looked nauseated.

‘Everyone shut up! There’s more!’ Dove called out.

The broadcast was continuing, the cameras tracking to show a number of heavy lift airships escorted by fast moving gunships flying in low across the Mistral coast. Airships bearing the Atlas symbol on their wings.

 _‘The Third Atlas Expeditionary Force began relief operations shortly after dawn yesterday morning,’_ Lisa Lavender announced. _‘Whilst their presence alleviates immediate fears of Grimm attacks, it is already raising questions as to whether Atlas, which has so far stayed neutral in the Disputed Zone, will involve itself in what Mistral sees as an internal matter. Wait…wait, we’re getting a live feed now from Villageville Harbour. Yes, we have General Ironwood coming to us live.’_

The next image was grainy, the telltale sign of a poor CCT connection. Despite that, the telltale shapes of Atlesian infantry were clearly visible as they dismounted their dropships. Most had their rifles slung, with their arms being filled with food crates and bags of medical supplies. A number of faunus were cautiously edging their way out of cover, mostly mothers and fathers with young children. Weiss gasped to see how many were covered in burns and bloodstained bandages, and she wasn’t alone.

_‘General Ironwood! General Ironwood! Over here, sir!’_

Whoever the correspondent was, they weren’t waiting for things to settle down. Weiss recognised the man the camera crew were running towards. Any Atlesian could have placed him in a crowd, but she’d met him three times at various recitals. One time she’d even met his daughter, though they both had been very young. He looked different now, clad in white combat armour instead of a crisp dress uniform, with his features locked in a stormy grimace rather than a genial smile.

_‘General Ironwood, do you have any comment on these attacks?’_

_‘That they stand condemned by every kingdom, including Mistral.’_ Ironwood jerked his hand toward the approaching airships. _‘At zero four hundred hours this morning, the Vale, Vacuo and Atlas councils, on the invitation of the Mistral Council, have authorised Atlas to conduct joint operations with the Vale huntsmen already in the Disputed Zone. The Third Expeditionary Force will be conducting relief operations along the eastern coast, the First will operate in the west. All units of the Mistral militia are hereby ordered to disarm, disband and return to their homes.’_

_‘General, the Hidden Valley Brigade has claimed their attack was only in response to aggressive actions north of the DZ by the White Fang? Can you address these claims?’_

_‘There are arrest warrants on the heads of every officer of the Hidden Valley Brigade pending investigation and likely a trial before the Vytal Court.’_ The words caused yet another round of murmuring around the hall. The Vytal Court hadn’t been convened since the Faunus War. And not many had been satisfied by its findings. _‘The White Fang are still considered a terrorist organisation by all four kingdoms, but as far as I’m concerned? Colonel Iris can share a cell with Sienna Khan. My priority is to establish safe zones against the Grimm, field hospitals for the injured and food distribution points in order to…’_

The camera shook as a blast rocked the scene. Despite their earlier aggression, the camera crew now wisely chose to stay on their stomachs as a volley of gunfire ripped into the Atlas troops. The camera slewed wide, catching the moment when a rocket slammed into the underside of a hovering airship, the craft’s engines whining as its cargo caught fire.

 _‘For the Fang! For Menagerie!’_ Hooded figures were pouring out of the jungle, the unready Atlas troops collapsing under their charge. _‘Belladonna! Belladonna!’_

 _‘Cut the damn feed!’_ Ironwood’s voice barked. _‘Cut it now!’_

One final explosion sounded before the screen went dead.

Silence reigned for a single moment. This time the muttering was more like a dull roar. Velvet had gone sheet white, Weiss was certain that there was more than a few of the sprawling Scarlatina clan in the ranks of the Atlas military. If the White Fang was attacking with the intent to kill…

Her stomach rolled. She had just watched people die. Her people. Maybe even General Ironwood himself. From some of the faces around her she was not the only one about to lose their dinner. Down one end of the cafeteria a shouting match had already started between three faunus students and some transfers from Haven. People were taking sides, squaring off as if they expected a fight to break out any second.

The doors flinging open to reveal the thunderous visage of Professor Goodwitch and the equally grim face of Doctor Oobleck killed whatever internecine conflict had been brewing. Goodwitch brandished her crop almost carelessly, the groups being forced far away from each other. Doctor Oobleck climbed up on a table, a loudspeaker in hand.

‘Any discussions on current happenings in Mistral will be confined to classroom debates _only!’_ For once his voice was calm and slow. There was no mistaking the intent behind his words. ‘Any attacks on faunus _or_ Mistral students will result in a notice-to-show-cause. Am I understood?’

The mutinous rumbling did not entirely vanish, but it did simmer low under the teaching cadre’s stern gaze. No one wanted to have to front the academic board to show cause why they should not be terminated from Beacon.

Weiss was shaken from her daze by movement to her left. Bella was standing from her seat, her face a mask as she stormed away from her team toward one of the side doors. Her path took her past Weiss, muttering something under her breath that Weiss couldn’t catch clearly.

‘What’s wrong with Nora?’ Ruby caught Weiss’ attention. She followed her teammates eyes back to where the rest of BYRN sat. Nora was hunched over in her seat, arms clutching herself as tears streamed down her face. Ren was holding her close to his chest, murmuring into her ear as he shooed Yang away.

It didn’t make sense. Nothing was making sense. Yang made her way down to JSPR, her silver eyes squinting around as the somewhat organised chaos began to unfold.

‘Yang?’ Weiss shuffled close to her. ‘Do you…have you noticed anything odd about Bella? Anything about her attitude to the faunus?’

‘I don’t think so?’ Yang phrased it as a question. ‘She doesn’t talk much. Why?’

‘I could have sworn I just heard her say _‘good riddance’_ as she passed me.’ Weiss shivered at the implication. ‘How could she be so callous to those poor faunus?’

‘I don’t know.’ Yang’s scowl had grown thunderous. ‘But I’m going to find out.’

\--------------------------

Bella walked briskly ahead of the students scattering from the cafeteria. Groups were already forming again, despite the warnings of moments before. It didn’t surprise her. Professor Ozpin’s speeches of unity were just words. Fine ones. It wasn’t the first time she’d them.

_‘A future of peace and prosperity can only be achieved through finding common cause. Let us not repeat the mistakes of the past. Rather, let us share together in this bounty.’_

Her pace quickened, shaking her head to clear the words away. The man who’d said them had failed to see them through. Just like Ozpin would fail to see his through. Fine ideas meant nothing without the will to make them into reality.

She broke into a jog as the landing pad came in sight. A large airship was waiting, filled up with day students heading back to their homes in the city or with third and fourth years bound for the clubs down in Vale. Why they were allowed to stay out till midnight every night but first and second years were restricted to the dormitories was beyond her.

‘Hold up there, firstie.’ One of the class monitors was standing at the base of the ramp, a second year looking bored out of her mind. ‘You got an evening pass?’

Bella narrowed her eyes at the girl’s clipboard. ‘You already know I don’t. I’m not planning on staying out late.’

‘Doesn’t matter. This is the last air ferry till the courtesy flights at ten and midnight.’ The girl flicked down her sunglasses (who the hell wore sunglasses at night anyway?) and flicked her eyes up and down. Bella cringed reflexively at the slight smirk that crossed her lips. ‘Besides, you’re not dressed for clubbing.’

‘Because I’m not going clubbing. Look, I think that there’s a book waiting for me in town, alright?’ Bella jerked a thumb back toward the lecture halls. ‘Peach has every team leader doing _professional development_ over the weekend, and if I don’t have this book read by Monday then she’s going to have my ass.’

‘Well, that would be a shame…’ The girl’s head angled to the side. Bella made a mental note to pick up some cargo pants and an overcoat. ‘Alright look, I’ll cover for you. Go grab your book, but you’ll have to take an air taxi to get back to the dorms before curfew or Goodwitch will get you before Peach does.’

Bella passed her without another word, cutting off the girl’s attempts to extend an invitation to breakfast or coffee the next morning. If all went well, she wouldn’t even _be_ at Beacon by the next morning.

_‘If the fighting gets serious, I will call you back. I will send a message through the Vale branch to one of our agents in the city. They will provide you with a route back to Mistral. Watch the news and wait for the word.’_

Picking a fight with Atlas was about as obvious a sign as it got.

Bella fidgeted with her scroll, making sure it was fully charged with a strong connection. The range of her locker was only ten kilometres. She would have to summon it to the edge of the city. It would raise red flags back at Beacon, but not as much as trying to sneak out of the school with her weapons. By the time they came searching for her she would be long gone.

None of the upper years bothered talking to her. She vaguely recognised someone from Team CRDL, perhaps Dove? He left her alone. Team BYRN didn’t interact with CRDL. In fact, outside of Team JSPR, she hadn’t made many contacts in the school itself. Sienna had encouraged her to try. But when her classmates included heirs of the Schnee and Winchester families? There was only so much she could take.

Beneath her ever-present black beanie, her ears twitched with excitement. Her ears. Old gods, but she was never wearing a hat again. She’d initially considered using a bow to hide them, a neat little disguise with breathable material.

Trifa and Ilia had laughed her out of their shared tent, Ilia literally tickled pink by the uselessness of the disguise.

_‘Who wears a bow? You look like an Atlesian maid!’_

She’d see them soon. Ilia, Trifa, all her friends and comrades. No more tolerating Nora’s lack of awareness for personal boundaries, no more sanctimonious lectures from Ren, and no more of Yang’s attempts at ‘team-building’.

Bella already had a team. And they were waiting for her in Mistral.

She hurried away from the rest of the crowd as soon as she landed. She’d memorised the route well in advance, but had deliberately avoided it until now. Until she needed it.

The sun had finally set by the time she reached the street. She’d shuffled the last few blocks, uncomfortably aware of how close she was to closing hours. Her luck held. As promised, Tukson’s Book Trade was still in the process of closing up, a teenage girl wheeling the advertising stands inside the shop whilst a broad-shouldered man pulled down the shutters.

‘Excuse me?’ She broke into a run. ‘Are you still…’

‘We’re closed for the day, Miss,’ the man called back. ‘Sally, you better head off now. That storm’s gonna hit sooner rather than later and I don’t want your Ma angry with me again.’

‘Okay Mr. Wilde.’ The girl was already pulling on a poncho, scowling up at the sky as the clouds rolled in from the coast. ‘You’d better hurry too, I know how cats are about rain.’

‘Cheeky little brat.’ Tukson cuffed the girl lightly on the head as she passed him. ‘I should dock your pay for racial sensitivity training.’

‘Half of nothing is nothing.’ The girl stuck her tongue out. ‘Do you want Ma to put chicken or tuna on your sandwich tomorrow?’

Tukson made a face. ‘Chicken, please. With extra pesto. Now be off with you.’

He watched the girl skip down the street with a far off smile. The smile took on a bemused edge as his eyes found Bella’s again. ‘I said we’re closed, Miss. We open again at…’

‘I need a copy of the Third Crusade,’ Bella blurted the words out. The recognition phrase was meant to be longer. A casual back and forth of books until she hit the code. But there was no time. Every minute could cost her. ‘By Richard Coeur. Second edition.’

‘I know what it is.’ That his smile vanished didn’t surprise her. That it turned instead to a hostile scowl did. ‘We don’t have it.’

Bella blinked. ‘But I’m expecting…’

‘I know what you’re expecting.’ The man shifted his gaze back up the street. ‘I said we don’t have it. And we’re not expecting it for three weeks.’

The words might as well have been a hammer blow. Bella took a step back, her mouth opening and closing without a sound. ‘But that’s not…she needs me now. I have to go. Surely you can get me…’

Tukson took a step closer. ‘Listen. I know what you’re thinking. But the supplier said _three_ weeks. It’ll take that long just to get everything printed, you understand?’

He was telling her to calm down. That she would give the game away if he was under surveillance. More than that, that her escape route from Vale wasn’t ready.

‘It doesn’t need to be a perfect copy,’ she said carefully. ‘I’ll take second hand if I have to.’

 _Stow away on a train, get to the east coast and steal a boat._ More than one compromised agent had escaped Vale in that manner. All she needed was some help.

‘Listen, Miss…?’

‘Bella.’

‘Listen, Miss Bella.’ Tukson expression eased a fraction. ‘Third Crusade’s a very…confronting read. Just look at the news right now, huh? The world’s a nasty enough place as is. Go back up to Beacon and read something a little nicer. Hmm? Plenty of time to read it later.’

_Go home, little girl. Let the adults play at war._

The crack of the thunder made her flinch. Tukson pulled the collar of his coat higher, his brow furrowing as the first drops of rain began to fall. ‘You’d best be off. It’s not a night for anyone to be caught out in a storm like this.’

Bella pulled away from him, not trusting herself to speak as she walked away. She felt Tukson’s eyes on her all the way up the street. She wasn’t even sure where she was walking. It didn’t matter. None of it mattered. Not Beacon. Not the curfew. It was all just…useless.

The first light spray began to increase, icy droplets multiplying until the water seemed to occupy every spare space. Anyone still on the streets was rushing for cover or pulling out their umbrellas. Without shelter of her own, Bella continued to wander, the streets of Vale blending together as she dwelt on a single thought.

Sienna hadn’t called for her.

Her teacher. Her mentor and commander. Sienna had begun the war. And she’d left her on the sidelines. Ilia. Trifa. All of her friends would be fighting for their lives now. Had been for days, perhaps. Days when all she’d been doing was sweating in the training ring and scowling at the Schnee.

The shame of it rested like a weight on her neck. She sank down on the gutter, her chin resting on her knees as she pulled them up to her chest.

It had been raining that day as well.

_‘Blake! Blake!’ Dad’s hands pulled her from the truck, tucking her against his chest as he ducked away from the next burst of gunfire. ‘Are you alright, kitten?’_

_‘Dad…’ Blake had to squint, the rain streaming down her face and into her eyes was making it hard to see. ‘My leg hurts.’_

_Dad glanced down and winced. ‘It’s alright, kitten. We’ll get you to a hospital as soon as we’re out of here. Just stay calm, alright? Be brave.’_

_Blake nodded, despite how the action made her head ache. ‘I…’_

_The air was filled with hisses and Dad’s aura flared as something smacked into his shoulder. He bit down on his lip to stop his shout, ducking down behind the wrecked truck and clutching Blake even tighter._

_‘Ghira! Stay down!’ Sienna’s warning preceded a hail of gunfire overhead. There were some cries from inside the jungle and the incoming fire seemed to decrease. ‘Alright, move now!’_

_Dad barrelled across the open ground, half on his hands and knees as he struggled to make it into the ditch where Sienna, Captain Rodentia and a handful of guards had taken cover._

_‘Sienna, take Blake!’ Dad bundled her into the young woman’s arms. ‘I think she’s dislocated her knee. Possible head injury.’_

_‘I’ve got her.’ Sienna laid Blake down against one of the sloping edges. She checked Blake’s eyes carefully, her hands trembling as she stroked her tiny ears. ‘You’re alright Blake. You’ll be alright.’_

_‘Sienna…it hurts.’ It did. It may have been childish to whine, but it hurt so much._

_‘I know, darling, I know,’ Sienna soothed. ‘You’re being so brave, Blake. So very, very brave. So very…’_

_There was a twist and a pop. Blake whimpered at the sickening feeling in her leg but Sienna just gave a satisfied nod. ‘I’ve got her.’_

_‘Chief, we need to get both of you out of here.’ Captain Rodentia grabbed Dad’s shoulder. The captain was a tall man, broad shouldered and well muscled. Next to Dad he might as well have been a child. ‘The rear of the convoy is still roadworthy.’_

_‘We can’t get everyone out on just three trucks.’ Dad poked his head up over the ditch, then yanked it back down as an explosion coated all of them with mud. Thanks to the near-monsoon that had raged since mid-morning, the water in the ditch was already up to their waists._

_‘Not all of us, sir, just you and your daughter.’ The captain pulled at him again. ‘We’ve got handguns and half a dozen rifles. They’ve got heavy machine guns. If that’s not the militia then I’ll hand in my pips right here and now. It’s a hit, and you’re the target.’_

_‘I won’t abandon my people, Captain!’_

_‘Ghira, go.’ Sienna joined Rodentia’s pleading. ‘Take Blake and get out. I’ll lead the survivors back to the redoubt on foot.’_

_Dad looked at them, then back to her. His mouth narrowed to a thin line, the rise and fall of his shoulders slowing._

_‘No!’_

_‘Dad!’_

_Neither adult could stop him as he vaulted out of the ditch and ran to one of the wrecks that had been part of their supply convoy. Tearing off a chunk of his shirt, he waved it out of cover._

_‘Cease fire!’ He called out. ‘Cease fire!’_

_‘Ghira, get back here!’ Sienna tried to follow, only for Saber to drag her back down. ‘You idiot!’_

_‘Please, there’s no need for violence!’ Dad called between bursts of gunfire. ‘Please! We have children here!’_

_That seemed to have some effect. The gunfire slowed. The heavier pieces, anyway. The murderous weight of metal eased, then finally came to a stop._

_Sienna and Saber glanced at each other, Sienna gave Saber a quick nod. ‘Look after her, I’ll be back.’_

_Before Blake could scream at her not to leave, Sienna had already done so, taking off down the length of the ditch at a half run, loosening her weapon as she went._

_‘Is that Ghira Belladonna?’ A woman’s voice called from the jungle._

_‘It is.’ Dad shouted back. ‘Let’s not be shy, I know you’re after me. Did the SDC raise their bounty? Or have I pissed someone else off recently that I should know about?’_

_‘Maybe we’re just concerned citizens? Trying to take action about a rodent infestation on our land?’_

_‘Funny how you didn’t seem to mind when we were the ones clearing that land and fighting off the Grimm. But that’s neither here nor there. You want me? You can have me. But you let the rest of these people go.’_

_‘Seems like we’ve already got all of you where we want. Why should we bother?’_

_‘Because it could take you another hour to finish us all off. The Grimm won’t wait that long. You can take me alive, or you can waste time trying to take me dead. I value my people too much to take that chance.’_

_There was a pause, perhaps whilst a discussion was had. ‘Alright Belladonna! You’ve got yourself a deal. Step out of cover and we’ll come to you.’_

_‘Chief!’ Saber gave a strangled cry. ‘Don’t do this!’_

_‘Stand down, Captain!’ Dad barked._

_‘Yeah, Captain.’ The woman stepped out of cover. ‘Do as your chief says.’_

_Saber sucked in a sharp breath. Blake did the same. Whilst the other men and women who stepped out of the jungle were clad in plain fatigues and carried basic dust rifles, the woman at their head wore a colourful ensemble of pink and Lincoln green. She carried a long bow in her left hand, but its bulk gave it away as a mecha-shift weapon. The kind of weapon that took years of training to master._

_‘A huntress?’ Dad growled. ‘What’s a huntress doing siding with the militia?’_

_‘Hey, I’m as proud a Mistral citizen as any.’ The woman gave a half-hearted shrug. ‘But truthfully? There was a pile of money as tall as me involved.’_

_‘Hmm…wrong accent for Mistral. I would have guessed Atlas…’_

_The woman smiled, lavender eyes dancing from under the shade of her green hood. ‘Wrong, but not for the reasons you think. Now, get on your knees, hands behind your head.’_

_Dad obeyed, one of the militia moving to secure his hands with gravity-dust laced cuffs._

_The huntress stood over him. ‘You seem like a decent sort, Belladonna. And for the record, I actually admire what you’re trying to do here. But I’ve got a family to think of.’_

_Dada closed his eyes. ‘So do I.’_

_‘Uh huh,’ the archer didn’t sound impressed. ‘Let’s get him moving. It’s a long way back to the dropship and I want…’_

_She cocked her head as if hearing something, then whirled, notched, drew and released in a motion so fluid Blake could barely see the individual parts of the movement. Sienna’s cry pierced the air, the woman dropping to the ground mid-leap, clutching her leg. The arrow had gone straight through it, penetrating Sienna’s aura like it hadn’t even been raised._

_‘Sienna!’ Dad lunged forward, but the militia restrained him. The huntress was drawing another arrow. ‘Please! You promised!’_

_‘That was before she tried to kill me.’_

_‘I made a deal for her life! You don’t need to killer her, please.’_

_The huntress paused, Sienna trembling as she stared up at the bow. She glanced back to Dad. ‘You faunus are pretty good beggars, I’ll give you that. Maybe you should stick to that instead of farming. You might last longer.’_

_She turned away from Sienna._

_She released the arrow into Dad’s chest instead._

She barely remembered what led to the day, or what followed after. She’d sat to the side as Captain Rodentia tried to resuscitate Dad. She’d sat to the side as they treated Sienna’s wounds. What could she do? She was just a small girl, useless to adults, just getting in the way.

Long before she’d sworn her oath to the White Fang, Blake Belladonna had sworn another one. That when another moment like that came…when someone she cared about was in danger, that moment would find her ready.

And here it was. Her loved ones were in danger once more. And once more Blake Belladonna was useless to them.

The splash on the sidewalk behind her did little to draw her attention. But the sudden interruption of the rain above her head did. She looked up, somewhat surprised to see an umbrella shielding her from the rain. Even more surprised when she saw who held it.

‘Hey Bella,’ Nora smiled down at her. Ren stood next to her, her partner extending a hand downwards.

‘We should get back to Beacon,’ Ren said gently. ‘You’ll catch your death of cold out here.’

As Ren and Nora helped her to her feet, there was a sudden weight on her shoulders. Yang placed her cloak over Blake’s shoulders, giving her a gentle smile in response to her querying look.

Blake wiped the moisture off her face with the back of her sleeve. Given that the sleeve was soaked through as well it didn’t do much. ‘How did you find me?’

‘You can thank Weiss,’ Nora said.

Blake froze. ‘The Schnee?’

‘How many Weiss’ do you know?’ Nora rolled her eyes. ‘Yeah, once we couldn’t find you at Beacon she suggested looking in the city and canvassing the bookshops.’

‘But why…?’ She hesitated. Nora punched her lightly in the arm.

‘You’re on our team, silly.’ Her smile wasn’t quite so wide. ‘You’re from Mistral, aren’t you…someone you care about is in danger over there?’

It didn’t reveal anything, so Blake nodded.

‘Same with us,’ Ren admitted. ‘Someone Nora and I care about quite a bit is caught up in all the fighting now.’

‘We can’t help him.’ Nora looked down, a hint of anguish darkening her features. ‘But I know that if he was here, he’d want me and Ren to look out for our teammates.’

Blake looked to Yang. The shorter girl fastened the cloak with a golden rose at the front. ‘I want to be the type of person who stands by her team,’ she said, as if it was just that simple. ‘No matter how mopey they are.’

‘But I…’

‘You don’t have to pretend that you want to be friends with us.’ Yang squeezed her shoulder. ‘I’ll still have your back, okay?’

Blake didn’t trust herself to speak. It was too confusing. All of it. She just nodded.

‘Now can we get back to Beacon?’ Nora bounced on her feet, glaring up at the sky. ‘I’m freezing out here and this skirt is doing nothing!’

‘How will we get back? The ferry isn’t for hours.’

Yang winced. ‘Ah yeah, about that? We kind of had to tell a teacher about this so we could use a Bullhead.’

‘Which one?’

‘Peach.’

‘Oh.’


	8. 'the girl who waited for a book'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Far from Beacon, the White Fang moves to secure allies in its war against Atlas. Raven Branwen's caution drives Sienna Khan to make a dangerous alliance.
> 
> Yang watches as Bella Ebony receives a book from her cousin, and wonders why she looks so disappointed.

Fennec Albain gave a quiet sigh as he was forced to his knees for the second time in three weeks. At least this time the boy faunus had the decency not to beat him bloody first.

‘I once spent six weeks in an Atlas black-site, boy.’ He looked up at the faunus, taking some pleasure in how the youth scowled back. ‘If you want to intimidate me, you’re going to have to try a little harder.’

‘Enough, Adam.’ The Branwen woman snapped her fingers, staying the boy in place. ‘If I want him beaten then I’ll let you now. And you. I thought I said that if the White Fang came this far north again I was going to start sending back heads?’

‘You did.’ Fennec agreed. It was always best to agree when one was surrounded by savages. ‘Which is why the White Fang is not coming north. As I’m sure you’ve heard, we have our own problems in the south.’

‘I _have_ heard!’ Branwen dropped into a plush armchair, kicking her feet up on the desk in front of her. Like more things her rogues had stolen. ‘I would never have believed it. Sienna Khan has a spine and it is made of steel. Picking a fight with James Ironwood in person? How much did that little stunt cost you?’

‘Surprisingly little. But then we weren’t there to fight and neither were they.’ It was a painless admission. Make any grandiose proclamations of victory now and Branwen would likely laugh him out of the camp. ‘Ironwood was attempting to establish himself as the legitimate power in the Disputed Zone. Contesting his first operations in the region sends a message to Atlas that this will not be a bloodless PR coup for them.’

Branwen stroked her chin, eyes turning from him to one of the maps that hung on the wall. ‘Sensible. The Atlas Council will be far less willing to bankroll peacekeeping efforts if they come with a blood price. Of course, if Atlas withdraws from the region that means the food and medicine they bring in will dry up.’

‘High Leader Khan sees that as a necessary sacrifice. This has been done before, if you recall. After Chief Belladonna was assassinated. Ironwood commanded the last peacekeeping force as well. It was fairly run, I’ll give him that. He enforced the borders, set up field hospitals, disarmed militias on both sides. And, less than three months after Atlas departed, the Mistral militias had already re-armed themselves whilst we were reduced to fighting with whatever scraps were left.’

The boy behind him snorted. ‘You were fools to disarm.’

‘And still more foolish to think that we would care.’ Branwen added. ‘Whether the White Fang chooses to fight or surrender does not concern the Branwens.’

‘Not even when there’s profit to be made?’ It was not how he might have chosen to deliver his offer, helpless on his knees before her. But the words made the woman pause.

‘Go on.’

Fennec let out the breath he’d been holding as slow as he dared. His head was safe on his shoulders for another few minutes. ‘It’s all about resources, Chieftan. You and the High Leader have that issue in common. Food, Dust, ammunition. Too much of one, too little of another.’

‘Shay, how are our ammunition stocks?’

‘Bountiful, ma’am.’

‘And how are your food reserves?’ Fennec asked the same man. ‘How are your winter stocks?’

‘None of your concern,’ Shay said curtly. ‘The weak die and the clan survives. Chief, can we please just take him out and shoot him?’

‘Wait, wait!’ Fennec wrestled against the faunus boy, the creature seemingly eager to pre-empt his chief’s orders. ‘What if you didn’t have to suffer through the winter? What if your entire clan could rest up safe and warm in the south?’

The chieftain eyed him. There seemed to be more curiosity than malice in her gaze this time. ‘Explain.’

‘The High Leader proposes an arrangement. Not an _alliance_ as such, we would never insult you by implying otherwise.’

‘Wise,’ she noted.

‘Most of Mistral’s huntsmen are moving south, either to assist with keeping the peace or to try their luck at the bounties on the High Leader.’ Fennec nodded his head toward the west. ‘The negativity of the conflict will likely draw most of the Grimm away from the north as well. Moving large bands of troops will never get any easier than this. Regretfully, the White Fang doesn’t have the numbers to exploit this opportunity. But you do.’

‘I do.’ Raven agreed. ‘But if you think I’m attacking Mistral for you while their protectors are in the south…’

‘Nothing so grand, nor so risky.’ Fennec moistened his lips. Much more than just his life rested on the next words. ‘The SDC has three quarries within a hundred kilometres of this very location. There are also dust depots, processing centres and worker’s camps. Food convoys. Payroll. Bandit chief? You could become a bandit queen with that kind of wealth.’

‘Don’t flatter me, I’ve heard it before and from better looking men.’

Well, she wasn’t threatening to kill him. That was progress.

‘My point stands,’ Fennec continued. ‘All Sienna wants is dust. A third of what you take. For one third of the dust, the Branwen clan will be welcome in the south with open arms.’

Once more she didn’t order his execution. Hopefully it was beginning to be more than a fluke. She even removed her legs from the desk, propping her elbows up and leaning forward as if to get a better view of him. Did she think he was lying?

‘The terms are, of course, up for negotiation. We wouldn’t want you to think you were getting a raw deal.’

‘Mmm.’ A frown creased her features. It certainly seemed like she was taking it seriously. ‘I could say a lot to that offer. It’s generous, certainly. A safe haven never hurt anyone. And an easy winter would certainly be a treat. Adam?’

‘Send his head back in a box,’ the youth replied without hesitation.

_‘Adam.’_

The boy sighed heavily. ‘I think it’s folly to ally ourselves with desperate men. The White Fang are weak because the faunus are weak. Make their cause our own and their weakness is liable to drag us down.’

‘Vernal?’

‘Why bother giving up a third of the dust?’ The short-haired girl gave a wolfish grin. ‘We could take it all for ourselves instead.’

‘And when the Mistral huntsmen come back north?’ Fennec fired back. ‘Where will you run to once you’ve stirred the hornet’s nest?’

Raven answered. ‘Wherever we choose. Unlike the White Fang we are not tied to a single location. Adam and Vernal are both wrong, however. Desperation can be a valuable asset. Those with little to lose often fight with the greatest resilience. And we could easily afford to spare a third of the bounty and still justify the cost of the raids.’

‘Then you’ll join us?’

‘No.’

A less experienced diplomat might have protested, extended better terms, built castles in the air and invited the chief to live in them. Fennec chose to keep his mouth shut. If Raven Branwen was open to convincing then she would have said so.

‘The High Leader will be disappointed to hear that. Is there any message you would like me to take back to her?’

‘Can I get the box?’ The boy asked hopefully.

‘Put the damn sword away, Adam, the joke’s getting old.’ Raven stood from the desk, nodding toward one of the maps. ‘Cut him loose and bring him over here.’

Rubbing at his wrists, Fennec rejected the boy’s assisting hand. It was unnatural for a faunus to be so devoted to a human in his mind. Especially to the point where the boy’s mask and weapon were clearly an homage to his leader.

‘Tell me, Fennec, have you ever met James Ironwood?’

He bristled at the casual use of his name, but like so many other slights to his pride he let it go. ‘Can’t say that Atlesian generals are part of my usual social set.’

‘You haven’t missed much, the man’s as dull as dishwater.’ Raven shook her head. ‘I mean, his hobby is astronomy? Some people just don’t know how to enjoy their power.’

‘Perhaps.’ He didn’t drop his guard. Small talk aside, there was still no guarantee that he would be allowed to leave with his life. ‘But the fact remains that he has power.’

Raven nodded. ‘And the will to use it. But even then, he can’t use it as he likes. Otherwise, and I mean no offence, he would have put a precision guided bomb in the door of your High Leader’s tent years ago.’

‘Or sent in his Ace Ops. I take it you also benefit from this?’

‘And I pay a considerable sum for the privilege. Otherwise that gremlin up in Argus would have teams hunting my clan by day and night. About twice a year Ironwood sends an offer to the Mistral Assembly to let him ‘clean up’ the hinterlands. A few lien in the right pockets and they politely decline. Some nice words about protecting their sovereignty.’

‘Pity they don’t care quite as much about protecting their people.’

‘Isn’t it?’ She tapped the map. ‘Ironwood has been waiting years for the opportunity to nail me to a wall. That’s why I prefer staying quiet whenever he’s on the same continent. Tell me, what do you think happens when I start hitting SDC warehouses at the same time that the White Fang suddenly solves all their dust shortages?’

There was only one conclusion and they both knew it. ‘You’ll be up to your eyeballs in Atlas Specialists before the end of the month.’

Raven’s shrug was almost apologetic. ‘It’s a good deal. But short of killing Ironwood...'

'Which is damn near impossible.' The boy grunted bitterly. 'The man is as paranoid as they come.'

'He is.' Raven agreed. 'I don’t see any way it doesn’t come back to bite me in the ass.’

‘Well then,’ Fennec smiled through a bloody mouth, ‘I suppose we’ll just have to find someone else.’

\--------------------------------------

The scroll rang on the bedside table. The tone was a simple melody, reminiscent of a lullaby. Sweet, trilling, so pleasant it almost failed to wake up its owner.

Slender fingers reached out from underneath a pile of sheets, painted nails wrapping around the screen to tap on the green mark.

‘Sienna…’ The woman’s voice was still thick with sleep, but practically purred with satisfaction. ‘You’ve reconsidered my offer?’

She listened for a few moments, the terse words coming from the scroll doing little but make her roll her eyes. ‘Yes, of course. You have my word. Expect the first shipment by the end of the week.’

The faunus on the other end cut the call without any fanfare. Relaxing onto her pillows, the woman stared up at the ceiling. A contented smile slowly graced her lips. As predicted, the White Fang had come around. A drowning woman couldn’t be picky about who was throwing her a line, after all.

As tempting as it was to lay back and savour the glow, there was far more work to be done.

‘Emerald!’ She swung her legs over the side of the bed, pushing herself up toward the ensuite bathroom attached to her hotel room. The door opened behind her, she didn’t have to look to know who stood there. ‘Lay out my Haven uniform once you’ve finished making breakfast. Then find a bookstore. I have a little errand for you to run.’

\-------------------------------

Ruby stared blankly at the page, red eyes narrowing as if demanding the page offer up its secrets. They failed to offer the required surrender.

‘This is stupid,’ she announced.

Professor Peach snored loudly in response. That didn’t stop Bella from looking scandalised.

‘It’s one of the great classics.’

‘It’s stupid,’ Ruby thumped her head on the table to punctuate her point. ‘It’s big, flowery words, but it all means the same thing. She’s being stupid.’

‘She’s not stupid, Ruby. She’s one of the great heroines of Mistrali history.’

‘Doesn’t stop her being stupid. Who goes and fights an army of thousands with only a hundred brave companions?’

‘I think her army was much larger than that in real life.’

‘Then they should say so.’ Ruby shoved the book of poetry away. ‘That just creates unrealistic expectations for force-on-force conflict.’

‘Yes,’ Bella said drily, ‘because Mistrali poets are well known for their thorough education in military affairs.’

‘Atlesian poetry is always accurate!’

‘Yes, because they all do two years of national service.’ Bella flinched as she realised how loud her voice had been.

Professor Peach snored loudly again.

‘Just…just try and look past how unrealistic it is,’ Bella continued in a lowered tone. ‘Think about how the poem makes you feel.’

Bella had received a week’s detention for using a professor’s name to sneak past a class monitor into town. The class monitor had received two weeks for being stupid enough to fall for it. Peach’s response to the whole incident had been confusing. She seemed more disappointed that Bella had been caught than the fact she’d snuck out in the first place.

Peach had been delighted, however, to have a ready-made literature tutor to supervise Ruby whilst she herself took an afternoon nap. The woman may have been professional, if somewhat eccentric, in her classes. Her disdain for the detention system, however, was palpable.

It was only matched by Ruby’s disdain for Mistralian poetry.

‘It makes me feel bored.’

Bella sank her face into her hands. Ruby glanced away, feeling strangely guilty. Bella was trying, she really was. After her strange blow-up in the cafeteria and subsequent disappearance into town, the dynamic within BYRN had shifted. They were trying to be…well, not friendly exactly, but pleasant. At the very least, JSPR could stop walking on eggshells around them.

‘I’m sorry,’ Ruby murmured. ‘I’ve never really enjoyed fancy stuff like this.’

‘It _is_ an acquired taste.’ Bella smiled. Ruby blinked to double check it was actually there. It was. Bella Ebony was actually smiling. ‘My dad used to get me to read them to him. The lays of Ancient Mistral, Mantle military ballads, the lost epics of Vale. Meanwhile all I wanted to read were romantic dramas and murder mysteries.’

‘But you like them now?’

‘Not so much…’ The smile faded, amber eyes turning back down to the pages. ‘But they remind me of him.’

‘I think I understand…’ Ruby’s strayed to her cloak. ‘It’s like our hoods? Yang’s and mine.’

‘Yeah, I guess it is.’ Bella eyed her, a cautious frown stealing across her face. ‘I’m…I’m sorry, I don’t exactly know what happened to her? Yang never…’

‘She was a huntress. She and Dad met right here at Beacon.’ It felt strange to describe. Both Raven and Summer had walked such similar paths to such different ends. ‘She disappeared on a mission.’

Bella’s eyes widened. ‘And your father was fine with both of you following in her footsteps?’

Ruby blinked, unsure what the purpose of the question was. ‘Well…yeah? I mean, he worries for us. But wouldn’t it cheapen her death if he didn’t let us continue her work?’

Immediately she knew she’d said something wrong. Bella’s face tightened, the hint of a scowl appearing. Her own anxiousness must have shown, since the brief hostility faded a second later.

‘I’m sorry…you just reminded me of something.’

‘Of your dad? Was he a huntsman too?’

‘More of a…community leader. But he protected people. And he was killed for it.’

‘By Grimm?’

Bella’s cold eyes made her wince. She understood. She didn’t want to, but she did. ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘You didn’t kill him.’ Bella took a long, quiet breath before turning back to her books. ‘It’s just…my mother didn’t want me continuing his work. She…isn’t well. I might have made things worse by leaving.’

‘Well, you have to follow your own path, right?’ Ruby nodded down at the poetry. ‘Isn’t that what this girl’s story is all about? Seeing your path through all the way to the end?’

‘You do realise she then goes on to overthrow the Empress of Mistral and rules as a tyrant for the rest of her life?’

‘Details, details.’ Ruby waved a hand. ‘Besides, the old Empress was a jerk. And if your mom doesn’t want you to honour your dad’s work, then she’s a jerk too.’

Bella turned her head away, wiping her cheeks carefully. ‘Well, it’s not the most subtle of literary critiques, but it’s something.’

Ruby grinned. Bella managed a tiny smile. Peach loudly snored at her desk.

‘Want to skip the rest of this?’ Ruby nodded at the backdoor of the classroom. ‘Nora just bought a new Playscroll for the common room.’

‘How does she always have so much pocket money?’ Bella frowned. ‘I thought she and Ren were orphans?’

‘No clue,’ Ruby began slipping her books back into her bag. ‘Come on, I wanna whoop Yang’s butt at Call of Honour.’

‘What if a professor catches us? Peach is…’

‘I don’t think Peach cares as long as we don’t get caught.’

As quietly as they could, both girls finished packing their bags and crept out the back of the classroom. Neither saw the smug grin on Peach’s face as she settled down even deeper into her armchair.

\------------------------------------

Yang stared. She couldn’t help it. It was just uncanny. ‘Uncle Qrow is never going to believe this.’

Beside her, Ruby nodded, her own eyes equally wide. ‘It’s gotta be linked, right?’

‘I already asked Dad, he assures me it’s not.’

‘What are the odds of history repeating itself like that?’

‘Could you guys stop?’ Weiss called from the couch. ‘You’re blocking the screen.’

‘Sorry.’ Both girls sidestepped. Yang held up the photo again. It showed Tai sitting on a couch, strumming a guitar whilst Summer leaned on him. The silver-eyed huntress was looking dreamily at him, one hand fiddling with her long plait. On the other side, Raven was eyeing them both with disgust.

She lowered it. ‘It’s way too much of a coincidence.’

Jaune, sitting between Weiss and Pyrrha, was happily strumming away at a guitar. Pyrrha wasn’t exactly pressed up against him, but she was eyeing him with an expression suspiciously similar to that worn by Summer Rose. And Weiss, well, she didn’t look disgusted. Restraining herself from obliterating the guitar from existence with a gravity glyph, perhaps. Music wasn’t for everyone.

‘On the plus side, I doubt Weiss is going to run off to be a bandit,’ Ruby mused.

Judging by the look Weiss sent them, she had no idea what they were talking about but knew it was at her expense. Ruby gave her teammate a tiny wave. Weiss’ eyes narrowed further, but the hint of a smile at the corners of her mouth gave her away.

‘You’ve got a good team, sis.’ Yang finished recording the scene in front of her and stowed her scroll away.

‘So do you.’ Ruby nodded to the couch in front of the television. Ren and Bella were engaged in a furious two-on-one death battle against Nora, the ginger girl screaming battle cries as she demolished their fighters on the screen.

‘Yeah…’ Yang felt her smile lessen slightly.

‘She’s alright if you give her a chance,’ Ruby said, her confidence absolute in the matter.

Yang flicked up an eyebrow. ‘Well, I know you tall, dark and brooding types like to hang out together…’

‘Hey!’

‘But she’s fine.’ Yang continued. ‘Whenever she’s not going off at Weiss, anyway.’

The two girls had seemingly come to a truce on that front. Rather than act like they were giving each other the silent treatment, they simply exchanged no words that weren’t pleasantries. Weeks now, and Yang still had no idea why her team leader’s dislike of the Schnee was so personal. She hadn’t noticed it quite so much in the first week of term. Weiss’ snootiness had ticked everyone off back then. But she’d changed. For most people, that had been enough.

And yet Bella had also changed. Before last week, she’d been…well, not as bad as Weiss but strange all the same. She was a fierce fighter, tied second with Yang herself in the rankings, but in everything else she’d seemed completely unwilling. Like she wanted to be anywhere else.

Something had changed. And Yang highly doubted it was just them searching for her in a rainstorm.

‘…will be your area of the dorms until the rest of the Haven teams arrive.’ Professor Goodwitch’s voice echoed in the corridor behind them. Ruby and Bella suddenly glanced at each other, then at the clock. Ruby hit the deck behind the kitchenette’s counter, but Bella was stranded on the couch with a controller in hand.

‘I’m sorry we inconvenienced you like this.’ The deputy headmistress rounded the corner with three older students in tow. The speaker was a dark-haired young woman in a neatly pressed blazer, the Haven crest sewn on the breast pocket. ‘I’m honestly quite embarrassed that Professor Lionheart made this your problem.’

‘Lionheart means well, I’m sure.’ Glynda gave her a kind smile. ‘I’m just glad all of you were able to make it out of the DZ safe and sound.’

The boy in the party snorted. ‘I still say we should have stayed. We were there for work experience.’

The other girl rolled her eyes. ‘Yeah, fighting Grimm. Not fighting White Fang.’

‘Hah, even easier then.’

‘Not sure you would have been so cocky if you wound up as a hostage.’

‘Children,’ the first woman warned. ‘Try and act like fourth-years, please?’

‘We’ll try and get you back in the field rather than keep you cooped up in the academy.’ Glynda reassured them. ‘Half of the guilds in town are begging for recruits. I’m sure we can arrange a placement.’

‘That’s very kind of you.’ The woman glanced at the common room. ‘Might we…?’

‘Oh yes. Mr. Arc, Miss Ebony. Might I have you for a moment? This is Team Carmen from Haven Academy. Miss Fall, wasn’t it?’

‘Cinder.’ The woman extended a hand to the approaching team leaders. ‘Bella, right?’

The girl in question cocked her head. ‘Yes?’

‘We have a mutual friend back in Mistral, I think? Your cousin in the seventh district?’

If Yang hadn’t been looking directly at her, she might have missed it. The momentary flash of the girl’s eyes, a twitch in her body as it went from relaxed to alert.

‘Cousin Anais?’ There was an urgency to the question. ‘I…I heard she was ill?’

‘She’s not at her best, but she told me to send you her love.’ Cinder reached into the bag at her side. ‘She told me to give you this. Said you’d probably been waiting for it.’

Bella almost snatched it out of the older student’s hands, her eyes scanning the cover. This time it was impossible to miss the disappointment on her face. ‘The Graverobber? But she said…’

‘Unfortunately she couldn’t find her copy of the Third Crusade.’ Cinder shrugged an apology. ‘But I’m sure by the time you finish reading that one she’ll have it ready.’

‘Well then,’ Bella smiled tightly. ‘I suppose I’d better read it quickly.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blake, your tradecraft is terrible. Then again, she wasn't meant to be doing any dirty work for nefarious villains in search of Maiden powers.


	9. 'the cousin from Atlas'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team Snowcap of Atlas arrives ahead of the Vytal Festival. Nora is overjoyed to introduce the team to her blunt-speaking cousin. Yang is slightly more interested in making the acquaintance of the team's...unorthodox commander.
> 
> Cinder prepares Blake for her first mission in Vale, and the terms of the White Fang's deal become abundantly clear to the young freedom fighter.

‘Salutations, Cousin-Nora!’

‘Penny!’

Ruby could have sworn she heard a clunk of metal as the two redheads collided. As expected, the burly ginger in pink proceeded to pick up the smaller one and swing her around with a delighted squeal.

What _wasn’t_ expected was for the short, thin ginger to then pick up Nora and squeeze her so hard her aura instinctively activated. Nora didn’t seem to mind the near breaking of her spine. Instead she beamed.

‘You’ve gotten so strong!’ Nora squeezed the girl’s arms appreciatively. ‘And your skin looks amazing too!’

‘As have you.’ Penny smiled sweetly. ‘However, your skin care is noticeably poorer than the last time we saw each other. Do remember that the Vale weather differs significantly from that which you are accustomed to and will require a different cream for maximum effectiveness.’

Nora gave a contented sigh. ‘I really missed you. It feels like I haven’t had an intelligent conversation in months.’

Ren had a rare smile on his face as he embraced the short girl. Penny’s hug was likewise far gentler. ‘It’s good to see you too, Penny.’

‘Likewise, Friend-Ren.’ Penny looked around at the room. ‘Are these all your friends?’

‘Mm hmm.’ Nora grabbed Yang and dragged her over. ‘This is my partner, Yang!’

‘Pleased to meet you, Yang Xiao-Long,’ Penny extended a hand. ‘I am Penny Valkyrie, Nora’s cousin from Atlas Academy.’

Nora nudged her. ‘You mean my cousin from Mantle.’

‘Of course. I meant that I _study_ at Atlas Academy.’ Penny said, not missing a beat. ‘It would be foolish if I was _from_ Atlas Academy. It’s not as if I was assembled there, after all.’

She hiccupped.

‘Riiight…’ Yang shot a glance back at Ruby. Ruby tried to communicate that she was as confused as her big sister. She reached out to take Penny’s hand. ‘Well, any friend of Nora’s is a friend of mine.’

‘Sensational!’ Penny grabbed Yang’s hand and shook it forcefully. Ruby became slightly worried when she heard a noise not too dissimilar to bones grinding against each other. ‘I admire your hood. I calculate it would be a very effective measure against the cold and wet…’

‘Thank you?’

‘…and likely a major hindrance during combat.’

The eyes of the room swivelled onto Yang. The blonde had a wide grin on her face, slapping Penny on the shoulder hard enough to stagger her for a brief moment. Both Nora and Ren blinked in surprise.

‘You speak your mind, kid, I like you.’

‘Thank you, Friend-Yang. Although technically I am one year older than you, so you would be a ‘kid’ to me.’

She hiccupped again.

‘Would you like a glass of water?’ Weiss offered.

‘No thank you. You are Weiss Schnee, correct? Your sister is a frequent guest instructor at Atlas Academy.’

Weiss smiled proudly. ‘Well, she is one of the finest officers in the specialist branch. As is only fitting for a Schnee.’

‘Indeed! Her skill with a blade almost makes up for her complete ineffectiveness beyond a range of fifty metres.’

‘Um…’

‘Penny, you gotta stop insulting people you just met,’ a boy’s voice sounded behind them. ‘Can’t leave you alone for five minutes, I swear.’

Penny had the grace to look mortified. ‘I apologise, friends. I should not have left you alone like that.’

‘No sweat,’ another boy said. The room turned to greet the new arrivals, two boys and a girl in Atlas uniforms. ‘Nep was taking forever to fix his hair in the bathroom.’

‘And our team leader here was making extra sure his boots could reflect the light he thinks is shining out his ass.’

‘These are my teammates,’ Penny explained. ‘Ciel Soleil, Neptune Vasilias and our team leader, Sun Wukong.’

‘Team Snowcap,’ the one with blue hair, Neptune, strutted forward with a friendly smile. ‘Top team in second year and future Vytal champions. Nice to meet you.’

‘Likewise,’ Jaune was the first to greet him. Ruby watched with bated breath to see if there was any bone crunching. Apparently Penny was an anomaly, since the rest of Team Snowcap fanned out to shake hands and exchange greetings without incident.

Nora was in her element, rushing amongst the newcomers. ‘I feel like I know you all so well already from Penny’s letters!’

‘Heard a bit about you too.’ The blonde boy with highly shined boots stepped forward. ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you Miss _Valkyrie_.’

The way he emphasised her last name made Ruby pause. Ever since Penny had arrived she’d been noticing it. Penny, Nora, Ren and now these new arrivals had a strange way of accenting perfectly ordinary words in a way that seemed to have no meaning, but also…did?

‘Bella!’ Yang called down the hall. ‘Stop being a grouch and come meet some new people. Maybe you’ll like these ones.’

‘Can’t.’ BYRN’s team leader appeared briefly in the doorway, her eyes narrowing as she took in the Atlas uniforms. ‘I’m heading into town, might not be back till tomorrow.’

‘Oh come on…’

‘It’s a weekend, I’m not on detention, I’ll be fine,’ Bella rattled off. ‘Don’t wait up for me.’

Yang sighed, her good humour suddenly evaporating. ‘Wasn’t planning on it. Have fun.’

She turned back to find herself face to face with Sun.

‘Maybe she’s got the right idea?’ The end of a tail flicked over his shoulder, scratching his jaw thoughtfully. ‘After all, it’s a Friday night. Maybe you guys could show us the town?’

‘Maybe we could.’ Yang cocked her head. ‘Do you have anything more comfortable than that uniform?’

‘Woah lady, we just met.’ Sun winked. ‘I prefer dinner first.’

‘That’s because your casual wear is considered indecent by polite society.’ Neptune leaned on his shoulder, glancing toward Weiss. ‘I, on the other hand, believe in staying well dressed in or out of uniform.’

Ruby stared at the two suddenly blushing girls and wondered if it was their sanity that was slipping or hers. Either they were sharing a delusion or it was hers and hers alone. From the expression of faint distaste on Ciel’s face, she had hope it was the former.

‘You know, Atlas military uses a lot of SDC products,’ Nepute was saying to Weiss. ‘My own weapon is based off a SDC-Sixty Seven, plus a couple of modifications.’

‘I’m glad you like it,’ Weiss’ smile stretched from ear to ear. ‘The SDC always strives to produce quality products for our men and women in uniform.’

‘Well, like the Atlas Corps of Infantry says: _Always remember that your weapon was made by the SDC._ ’

‘Close,’ Penny said cheerfully. ‘The actual quote is: _Always remember that your weapon was made by the SDC when it should have been made elsewhere._ ’

Weiss’ smile had frozen in a rictus grin. Sun patted Neptune on the shoulder as the Schnee heiress marched off in quick time. ‘Next time, buddy. Next time.’

Ruby moved over to Penny. The girl might have been a little strange, but if she Nora’s cousin then she couldn’t be all that bad.

‘Hey Penny, I’m Ruby.’

‘Hello, Ruby! You must be Yang’s sister. I can tell by the shape of your faces and by your equally impractical hoods.’

\-------------------------------------

‘You’re late.’

‘I don’t recall promising to be anywhere by any particular time.’ Blake stormed across the room, stripping off her jacket and beanie and stuffing them into an open locker. She tossed her scroll and wallet in after them. ‘Besides, I had my last detention.’

‘Detention? For what? Pushing a kid over on the playground?’

‘Roman.’ Cinder’s tone was gentle, but her eyes conveyed her intent well enough. They held a lot of things. ‘Blake is here to assist you in getting your dust deliveries back on track. In return I’ll thank you not to mock her attempts to gain a good education.’

‘Would you mind not blurting my name to every street criminal under your thumb?’ Blake dropped into the chair across from him. The room stunk of cigar smoke, spent dust and the faint tang where bleach had been used to scrub out blood. ‘I don’t have any warrants on that name in Vale yet, and I’d like to keep it that way.’

‘You don’t have any warrants on your name anywhere.’ Cinder simply smirked at her scowl. ‘Sienna has been very careful to keep your name out of the White Fang’s propaganda pieces.’

‘Sienna…Sienna Khan?’ The man Cinder had addressed as ‘Roman’ sat up hastily. ‘White Fang? You’re shitting me…’

‘I’m not sure why you’re surprised,’ Cinder said. ‘What did you think I was having you steal so much dust for? A fireworks display?’

Roman leaned forward, white gloves linking together as he glared back at Cinder. ‘What I didn’t think was that I was going to wind up facing extradition requests from Atlas if they ever find out I’m helping arm terrorists!’

Cinder leaned across and patted him on the shoulder. Blake didn’t miss how the man recoiled away from her touch. He was afraid of her. That was a fairly reasonable indication that she should be as well.

‘Remember, Roman, all the negative consequences that you fear? They can only come true if you get caught.’ Cinder took her bag off the table. ‘Now, if you don’t mind, I still have a long night ahead of me and I need to get started. Will you need more help dealing with a teenager again, Roman? Or can I enjoy a bottle of wine without fear of you screwing up a simple extraction.’

Roman flicked a hand up in response. Cinder’s smile only grew wider. ‘That’s the spirit.’

‘And what about me?’

The woman’s eyes flicked back to her. ‘What about you?’

‘I have questions. Like why Sienna is working with human criminals.’

‘Dust.’

‘I…’

‘No, you said you wanted to know.’ Cinder gestured around the room. ‘It’s for Dust. I told her I could get enough to supply her for three wars. All I needed were some local contacts and muscle. She gave me the contacts, she gave me your cover name and the recognition code.’

‘How do I know Sienna gave it to you willingly?’

‘Are you telling me that you and Sienna didn’t have a code for that as well? Several, even? As far as I know, me giving you a first print copy of _Ninjas of Love_ would have prompted you to shoot me in the chest.’

Technically it wouldn’t have. _Arts and Crafts for the Stay at Home Parent_ however…

‘Roman will see to your equipment. If you require a cover story or alibi then inform me, I will have Emerald or Mercury provide the necessary arrangements.’

‘You’re too kind.’

‘And the revolution thanks you for your service,’ Cinder smiled back. ‘Do enjoy yourself.’

\----------------------------------

Neptune had been entirely correct, Yang realised. Sun’s civilian clothes were best described as…risqué. Sure were nice to look at, though.

‘So you just rocked up and said that you wanted to join the academy? No transcripts?’

‘No transcripts? Lady, I didn’t even have a set of shoes.’ The way Sun laughed, one would think it was a thing of great amusement to have shown up to initiation day with nothing but a ragged set of pants and his weapon. ‘I thought the orderly at the front desk was going to have a heart attack when he saw me. Couldn’t believe I’d made it through the front doors.’

‘How did you?’

‘Would you believe me if I said it was my winning charm?’

‘No.’ _Yes_ , a treacherous voice contradicted a moment later. ‘Well, you made it through the front door. But what about everything else? Even Beacon would have had some eyebrows raised.’

‘Well, the orderly was busy calling the military police to chuck me out, so I decided to slip away whilst he was occupied. Went round the corner and bumped straight into the Old Man, sorry, that’s what we call General Ironwood when he’s not around.’ Sun’s eyes twinkled. ‘I told him I was looking for the assembly area for initiation. He took me right to it. Everyone who saw me just assumed I was meant to be there since I was walking with him.’

‘I don’t think the General was fooled for a second,’ Ciel scoffed from behind him. ‘He simply took pity on a poor orphan boy from Vacuo, that was all.’

Sun winked back at her. ‘Keep telling yourself that, Ciel, but that man hadn’t had a wink of sleep. Maybe Professor Goodwitch was in town…’

‘La-la-la!’ Ciel’s fingers buried deep in her ears. ‘I can’t hear you, la la!’

Yang grinned at the banter, particularly at how Weiss herself flushed at the implication of a romantic attachment between the chief of the Atlas military and Beacon’s combat professor. There must have been a story there.

‘Alright, so you got through initiation…’

‘Oh, I didn’t just get _through_ initiation…’

‘Here he goes…’ Neptune groaned.

‘…I _smashed_ initiation.’ Sun couldn’t have looked any more smug if he was reclining on a lounge. ‘A combat obstacle course involving live Grimm, Atlesian Knights and a pairs-based capture the flag at the end. Neptune and I were the winners. I had to drag him to glory, but we made it in the end.’

‘And I’ve been stuck with him since.’ Neptune shoved Sun hard enough to unbalance him for a moment. ‘I nearly had a heart-attack when I got paired up with the dirty boy in rags.’

‘Your mom nearly had a heart-attack, you mean,’ Sun shoved him back. ‘You were having the time of your life, and don’t pretend otherwise.’

‘Sure I did,’ Neptune said agreeably. ‘Until they realised you weren’t meant to be there.’

‘How long did that take?’ Yang said.

‘A week.’

‘A week!’ Weiss’ eyebrows climbed up to her hairline. ‘The Atlesian military took a week to realise you weren’t supposed to be there?’

‘That’s the military for you,’ Sun said with a shrug. ‘When my name wasn’t in the system when they issued me my uniform, everyone just assumed it was a clerical error. When I wasn’t on the official roll call, they just assumed I hadn’t been added to the register. Food, bedding, ammunition. Everyone just assumed I was someone else’s problem.’

Weiss looked as though she’d just had a foundational belief shattered with a hammer. ‘But…Atlas Academy is renowned for its discipline…how didn’t someone notice sooner?’

Neptune glared at Sun. ‘Because Mr. _Raised in the Wild_ happened to be some kind of prodigy at being a soldier!’

Sun just adjusted his collar. ‘What can I say? I’d never owned a set of boots before, I wanted to look after them.’

‘Every day,’ Neptune fumed. ‘Every day for seven days, General Ironwood stops in front of Sun at morning parade and compliments him on the shine of his boots, the crispness of his collar or the sharp crease of his beret.’

‘And on the eighth day I got called into his office and offered a full scholarship.’

‘And your lack of luggage?’ Weiss asked. ‘Your lack of academics?’

‘General Ironwood sorted it all,’ Sun said mysteriously.

‘He got him a tutor,’ Ciel said. ‘And a stipend for personal expenses.’

‘Cieeeeel…’

‘General Ironwood is renowned for spotting talent,’ Ciel said briskly. ‘Regardless of Sun’s means of entering the academy, he quickly distinguished himself as being a cut above the rank and file. It wouldn’t surprise me if Sun is being groomed for officer candidacy after he graduates.’

‘Yeah, well, I might as well.’ Sun made an agonised expression. ‘I’m stuck in the Army for eight years after graduation.’

Yang grinned at him, the dots connecting quickly. ‘Full scholarship came with some strings attached?’

‘Service guarantees education and citizenship.’ Ciel sounded absurdly proud of that fact. ‘That is the Atlesian Way. Atlas cares not from where your blood came from if you are willing to shed it in defence of…’

‘Now you’ve done it.’ Neptune sagged against Sun. ‘She’ll be at this for hours now.’

‘Indeed,’ Penny’s bright tone was somewhat less so as she dipped her head. ‘Friend-Ciel’s admiration for General Ironwood is…thorough.’

Ciel’s cheeks brightened, her nose turning up as she huffed at her teammates. ‘General Ironwood is one of the finest soldiers to have ever worn the rank of Supreme Commander. His tactical acumen, honed in combat zones around the world, is truly second to none. We should all aspire to be…’

‘Hey, Penny?’ Sun interrupted. ‘Remember when you told us about those little lovehearts she doodled with _Mrs Ciel Ironwood_ inside of them?’

‘Well, I…’

‘Thatwasjustajokewasn’titPenny?’ Ciel suddenly rushed out, her eyes flicking to…Nora? ‘Please…?’

‘Oh, of course,’ Penny giggled. ‘Just harmless teasing amongst teammates.’

She hiccupped.

‘So, moving right along from what may or may not be inappropriate crushing on our headmaster,’ Sun said. ‘Where are we eating tonight? You show us the best spot and Atlas Academy will pick up the tab.’

‘Well, you’re in luck,’ Yang slung an arm around the boy’s shoulders. ‘The seafood in Vale is the best, and we’re heading straight for the greatest fish and chips shop in town. Great view over the bay, especially when Beacon lights up for the night.’

‘Sounds great,’ Sun grinned back at her. ‘Lead the way?’

Yang put an extra sway in her hips as she moved past him. ‘Just try and keep your mind on the fish.’

\-----------------------------

Blake sighed, and for the third time in an hour tried to loosen the collar on the stiff white coat Roman had bundled her into. ‘How do you even fight in something like this.’

‘Easily.’ The thief tapped out the ash of his cigar and lifted it back to his mouth for another deep inhale. ‘Stop pulling at the collar, you’re going to damage the fabric.’

She waved another cloud of cigar smoke out of her face, scowling at the tiny smirk that played at the edge of his mouth. ‘Well maybe you could stop blowing that stuff my way? That has to be your third one since we left the hideout.’

‘Safehouse, kid. Professionals call it a safehouse. Hideout is what an amateur that’s watched too many heist movies calls it. Better yet, don’t call it anything at all. Just say _your place_ and I’ll know what you mean.’

He took another puff and frowned at the glowing orange ring creeping closer to his fingers. ‘And you’d be smoking too if you had to put up with the same stress as me.’

‘Far as I can see? We’re in the same boat. Robbing a dust depot on the orders of someone neither of us likes.’

‘Alright, first off? We’re not in the same boat. We’re not even in the same ocean.’ Torchwick jerked a thumb toward the outline of Beacon above the cliffs across the sound. ‘You’re a White Fang asset posting as a huntress-in-training. The same White Fang that’s now burning down half of Southern Mistral. The only warrants on my neck are for grand larceny and armed robbery, not political terrorism.’

‘You think you’re _better_ than me? Because you’re committing crime for a profit?’

‘I don’t pretend to be clean, alright? But no one I ever robbed ever walked away with anything more than a couple of broken ribs. What’s the White Fang’s body count up to these days? How many…’

‘Enough.’ Blake flinched at the venom in her own voice. She drew her hand away from the pistol he’d given her earlier. ‘Whatever we’ve done to humanity, humanity’s done far worse to us.’

Torchwick’s scoff showed exactly what he thought about that, but Blake pressed on. ‘But we’re not here to talk about that, are we? We’re here to steal dust. I’m sure you’re being paid generously for your work.’

The thief paused, examining her for a second like he was seeing her for the first time. ‘Huh. Not sure if you’re actually kidding me right now or if you actually believe it?’

‘You’re not being paid?’

‘Oh, I’m taking my cut alright. Straight off the top.’ Torchwick flicked a lien chit out of his pocket. ‘Whether I live long enough to spend it is another matter.’

‘I thought you said the security was light?

‘I’m not worried about the security,’ Torchwick said. ‘This dust is going to your people in Mistral, right?’

‘To help fight against Atlas, yes.’

‘And what do you think Atlas military intelligence is going to say when they realise dust is being stolen from Vale right about the same time as the White Fang suddenly gets a boost to its firepower? You reckon they’re going to come looking for a White Fang asset posing as a huntress in training? Or little old me, the one taking the heat for all this?’

The scowl his words brought to her face brought a grin to his. ‘See, I think you already know that. Just like you know that they’ll never think to look for a White Fang asset in Beacon. Second this gets too hot you’re gonna pop that beanie back on and smile blithely at me as General Jimmy-Jam has me hauled off to an Atlas black-site.’

‘Then why do it at all?’

His grin faded. ‘Lack of options, kid.’

Below them, the last of the civilian cars pulled away from the dock’s parking lot. The security guard in the booth by the main gate kicked his feet up, flicked open a book and began sipping from a thermos.

Torchwick stubbed out his cigar. ‘Well, that’s as good as we’re gonna get. I’ll take out the rovers, you hit the front gate and open it up for the boys with the trucks. In and out, twenty minutes. Think you can handle that?’

Blake held up the cane he’d loaned her, testing the latch on the concealed sword with her thumb. ‘Provided this gimmick actually works, then yeah.’

Her new partner tutted severely. ‘You kids have no appreciation for the classics.’


	10. the girl who liked to fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How much violence is enough? Is it noble if employed for noble ends? Or does it simply breed more, no matter the cause?
> 
> Ruby and her friends interrupt Roman and Blake's dust robbery. But who can predict the lengths Blake will go to in order to avoid capture?

_‘Daddy, is it…bad?’_

_‘Is what bad, baby?’_

_‘Fighting.’_

_Tai paused, looking at his daughter with mild confusion. ‘I’m not sure what you mean.’_

_Ruby looked down at her hot chocolate, tiny brow furrowing as she fidgeted with the mug of hot chocolate on the table. ‘Mrs. Wexley…she said I was a bad girl the other day because I fought Ada.’_

_That was news to Tai. ‘You did what?’_

_‘I tried not to,’ Ruby hastily added. ‘She just kept pushing Jessie over and taking his truck. I tried to tell a teacher, like you said, but she kept doing it as soon as they went away. So I pushed her over and gave Jessie his truck back. Mrs. Wexley saw and…’_

_‘I see,’ Tai settled back on his chair. ‘She said you were a bad girl for fighting?’_

_Ruby paused, perhaps hearing the edge in his voice. ‘Not…not exactly. She didn’t call me a bad girl. She said that fighting was bad and I should have used my words. But…words weren’t working. Fighting worked.’_

_Tai tried not to smile. The petulance in Ruby’s voice shouldn’t have been amusing. She was so certain she was right. And…well, she wasn’t exactly wrong…_

_‘Fighting isn’t good or bad, Ruby. Not on its own.’ It was a truism, perhaps, but it existed for a reason. ‘You tried not to fight, but you weren’t afraid to stick up for a friend, either. I’m proud of you.’_

_Some of the tension left Ruby’s shoulders. But not all. ‘So…I’m not bad for enjoying it?’_

_And there was the catch. With no easy answers, either. ‘Well, that depends. What part of the fight did you enjoy?’_

_‘Finishing it.’_

_That **did** cause a brief spike of concern. ‘Because you were able to beat her?’_

_‘Kind of,’ Ruby said. ‘And because it meant she wouldn’t hurt Jessie again.’_

_‘I see…’ It wasn’t exactly as cut and dried as he’d been hoping for, but neither was it so complicated that he needed to take her into Vale to see a therapist. ‘Well, I don’t think there was anything bad about what you did. Remember on your birthday? When you first said you wanted to be a huntress?’_

_Ruby nodded quickly. ‘To help protect people.’_

_‘That’s right. Now, it wasn’t wrong to enjoy helping someone, but I don’t think that’s what you’re asking.’_

_A sag of her head confirmed that._

_‘It was more than just feeling good after sparring,’ she admitted. ‘When I finally pushed her back…dodged her punches just like you showed me…it was real. And I…I liked it. Because I won. Because I helped Jessie. But I don’t know which one I liked better.’_

_‘Well, sorry to say, darling, but I usually feel the same way.’_

_Ruby blinked. ‘But…’_

_‘I’m glad when I win my fights. Glad that I won and they lost. Glad that they’ll be going to prison. Glad that they won’t hurt anyone in prison, that maybe they can get the help they need. And most of all I’m glad that I’ll be heading home to see you and Yang.’_

_‘But Mrs. Wexley said I should have been the bigger person.’_

_‘And let someone stronger beat up someone weaker?’ Tai’s brow wrinkled. ‘I don’t get city folk sometimes.’_

_Ruby’s giggle was half-hearted compared to her usual guffawing. Tai kicked himself for falling back on humour. She needed more than just jokes right now. ‘But I do wish you could have solved it without fighting.’_

_‘But fighting was the only way to stop it!’_

_‘Was it? I wasn’t there, so I can’t say. Was there truly no other way?’_

_She bit her lip. Tai gave her a knowing smile._

_‘Hindsight is always perfect. But remember this, Ruby, our role as huntsmen and huntresses is to preserve life. First the lives of the innocent and weak. Then the lives of our comrades. Then our own. And, if we can do it safely, the lives of our enemies.’_

_‘Even if they’re bad guys?’_

_Tai nodded. ‘Not everyone who tries to hurt other people does it out of enjoyment. Sometimes they’re desperate. Just trying to survive themselves, and with no better options available to them. Suppose I robbed a store with a knife to buy medicine for you and Yang? Would that make me evil?’_

_‘No…?’_

_‘Why?’_

_‘Because…you’re not doing it for money? You’re doing it to help other people.’_

_‘That’s right,’ Tai said. ‘But if you were a huntress, it would still be your duty to arrest me.’_

_‘But…’_

_‘A huntress doesn’t get to pick which laws she enforces and why.’ Tai tapped his head, schooling his features into a sterner frown. ‘But how you enforce those laws will be up to your own best judgement. The one who steals to feed his family may be just as dangerous as the one stealing for a profit.’_

_‘Like…the faunus who took that man hostage?’ Ruby bit her lip. ‘Even if they did it for something…noble?’_

_Tai took her hand. ‘What difference does it make to the victims, Ruby? No matter how noble the cause is, as soon as violence comes into play then the balance shifts. Innocent lives are put at risk. Sometimes your most important role as a huntress is not to wield violence, but to stop it becoming necessary.’_

_‘Then I failed.’ The crushed expression on her face was oddly adorable, but Tai kept the smile off his face. This was serious for her and deserved to be treated as such. ‘I didn’t stop it from happening.’_

_‘No, but that doesn’t mean you failed. You tried to get a teacher, they didn’t listen. You only used as much force as was necessary to get her to stop hitting Jessie.’ Tai winked. ‘I rate your performance as eight out of ten, well within use of force escalation.’_

_It cheered her, but not by much. ‘Being a huntress is harder than I thought.’_

_‘It is.’ And wasn’t that an understatement… ‘And I won’t pretend that everyone does it for the right reasons. There’s more rogue huntsmen out there than I can even begin to count. But their reasons for going rogue had nothing to do with enjoying a good fight.’_

_Her head jerked up, red eyes widening as she realised what he was saying. Tai moved around the table and wrapped his arms around her. Like Yang before her, Ruby was moving into that age where she was too cool for hugs from dad. This one she allowed without complaint._

_‘Liking a good fight doesn’t make you a bad girl, Ruby,’ he murmured into her hair. ‘And I will never be disappointed in you for standing up to bullies.’_

_Stepping back, he dropped to eye level with her. ‘But always remember what it’s all for. Crescent Rose is a well-made weapon, but it’s only beautiful when used for beautiful things.’_

_‘Like protecting innocent people,’ Ruby said. ‘If I used it to hurt people for no reason it would be ugly.’_

_‘Exactly.’ He ruffled her hair, finally allowing his grin to slip through. ‘But I don’t think for a moment that day will ever come.’_

\----------------------------

Tai hit the door at a sprint, his shoulder battering it back upon its hinges with enough force to make the glass rattle. Had it been locked, the force of his charge might have carried him clean through it. ‘Where are they?’

Ozpin rose to meet him, the man’s face as grim as he had ever seen. ‘Tai, you need to remain calm…’

‘Oz, you don’t get to send me a message about an _incident_ and then tell me to stay calm.’ Tai moved toward the next set of doors, but Ozpin stepped in front of him. ‘Get out of the way, Oz.’

‘Your daughters are being tended to by our doctors. Doctors who need space and quiet if they are to do their work effectively. Neither of them is in life threatening condition…’

‘Then let me see them.’

‘Tai, Ruby has had a very severe shock and seeing you in such a state could only do more harm than good…’

‘Oz, if you think I won’t go straight through you to get to my girls…’

‘Tai!’ A sharp voice sounded behind him. ‘Oz might not be willing to do so, but rest assured I am more than capable of restraining you until you calm yourself.’

The tap of Glynda’s crop against her knee served as a valuable reminder of that fact. With great effort Tai swallowed the anger building in his throat as he turned to face her. ‘Glynda, please.’

‘They do need you.’ Glynda’s voice softened as she reached him. ‘Very badly. But right now they need you at your best. Please. Just take a minute.’

Tai wanted to shove his way past her and Ozpin both. For a moment something dark and screaming in his heart told him to do just that. Activate his semblance, ramp it up to maximum and shrug off both of their attacks for _daring_ to keep him from his girls.

The moment passed, but slower than he would have liked. The red crept away from his eyes, his mind suddenly light as he pressed a hand to his skull. ‘I…please. Just let me see them.’

‘Oz…’ Glynda glanced at the headmaster. ‘Maybe it’s for the best…’

Ozpin’s jaw tightened for a moment, the hesitation obvious in his eyes. ‘Alright. But please, keep yourself calm. There will be time for recriminations later.’

The infirmary was a buzz of activity, white uniformed nurses swarming from bed to bed carrying bandages, syringes and a host of other medical equipment Tai didn’t recognise. There was need for all of it. Eight of the infirmary’s twenty beds were filled with students.

A tall boy with shaggy blonde hair was being helped out of his armour by a red-haired girl, one of his arms dangling uselessly by his side. A white-haired girl was whimpering softly as one of the nurses rubbed burn cream onto her legs. A boy with a monkey tail was cracking jokes to another boy and girl in Atlas uniforms as one had her head bandaged and the other had a deep cut on his back stitched up.

His girls were up the far end, Yang coughing as a medic held a stethoscope over her lungs.

Yang’s cloak was in tatters. Ruby’s was soaked in blood.

Remembering Ozpin’s pleas, Tai stopped himself from bolting toward them. As he walked steadily between the beds, he could feel the eyes of the other students coming to rest on him. The boy with the broken arm tried to stand, only to be pushed back down by the redhead.

‘Dad!’ Yang saw him first, trying to sit up. The wince on her face was more evidence of her injuries than the soot staining her face and hands, or the slight singe to parts of her blonde hair.

‘Hey sweetie,’ Tai kept his voice very soft as he sat between them. ‘Are you both alright? Ruby…the blood?’

His little girl finally raised her eyes to meet him. Blood red eyes. Empty of light.

‘None of it’s mine,’ she said.

\--------------------------

**THREE HOURS EARLIER…**

‘This one’s loaded. Get it out of here, move!’

Blake slammed the cargo door shut, the goons in black and red climbing back into the cab of the truck as it headed for the western exit of the dock, away from the gunfire toward the east. The three speedboats likewise pulled away from the pier, speeding toward the storm drains that would carry them under the city itself. Roman had arranged for the dust to be smuggled out by land and water, but how it would eventually get to the White Fang was still a mystery to her.

What she _did_ know was the chances of that dust finding its way to the fighters in Southern Mistral would significantly decrease if Roman Torchwick was on the wrong side of a prison cell.

‘I can’t believe this.’

She sprinted toward the eastern side of the docks, pulling the pistol from her side and racking the slide halfway to ensure there was a round in the chamber. It wasn’t the quality of her own weapon, not even close. But to use something that even vaguely resembled it would be as good as signing her own arrest warrant.

Even if the battlefield before her made her desperately wish for it.

By his own admission, Torchwick didn’t like working with a large crew. But robbing a dock took more than just two hands, so he’d used several trusted associates to man the getaway vehicles and outsourced the muscle. Twenty men and women in black suits, all of them wielding red hatchets or machetes.

Compared to a huntress-in-training, they might as well have been straw men.

Yang was fighting four at once and _laughing_. Ren weaved around another two, the placid expression on his face belying the power behind his counter-strikes. Nora was using a gangster as a bludgeon to thrash another gangster.

About the only even fight was Jaune, the blonde boy gamely trading punches with a larger woman, but still forcing her onto the back foot.

Roman himself looked like he was having a terrible evening. No fewer than four hunters were attacking him from all sides. A ginger girl Blake didn’t recognise and a blonde faunus with a monkey tail were attacking him with a mixture of blades and batons, somehow having their weapons on them despite the prohibitions of Vale law. Pyrrha was fighting without weaponry, but in combination with the other two it was more than enough to occupy Roman’s attention.

Leaving Ruby free to swoop in and out, striking the thief whenever there was an opening.

It was a confusing mess of a melee.

For Blake, it almost felt like home. Ilia and Trifa had been the ones who drew the attention back in Mistral. Be it Grimm or Mistrali militia, they made themselves the target that the enemy focused upon. Torchwick’s thugs would do just as well.

She didn’t know her first two targets. That made it easier when she fired point blank into the back of the girl’s knees. Aura held, barely. The kinetic impact of the rounds still tripped her up. A boot to the face left her out for the count.

The blue haired boy whipped toward her as his partner went down, frozen as he tried to process how easily she had been taken down. Blake didn’t even unsheathe the sword from the cane, rather she slammed it handle first into his jaw. He staggered but didn’t fall, foot lashing out to catch her on the leg. His eyes widened as he saw the flare of her aura.

She didn’t give him the chance to warn the others. She lashed out with her left foot, her shinbone cutting into the muscle just above his left knee. Balance broken, he was helpless to dodge as she emptied the rest of her magazine point blank into his chest. His aura was stronger than his partner’s, his face locked in grim determination as he tried to launch another attack.

Blake dropped him with hook to the right kidney.

If he was armed he might have stood half a chance. Blake was coming to appreciate just dependent huntsmen were on their weapons. Sloppy. Sienna had taught her to fight with her hands long before she put a sword in them.

The thugs she had saved looked to her in unwanted gratitude. She could use that. Dressed almost identically to Torchwick, complete with a ridiculous fedora, she had somehow borrowed his authority over them.

‘Get that one,’ she pointed at Jaune. ‘He’s the weakest. They’ll close ranks to protect him and we can run for it.’

‘Yes boss!’

She was mildly impressed by their loyalty. An unarmed hunter, even one in training, was still a trained combatant with aura and a semblance. Torchwick must have been paying a fortune.

Any one of them could have stopped to finish off the downed students. Blake could have done it herself with a quick thrust. For the crooks, it was simple risk avoidance. The sentencing for armed robbery and that of murder was quite disparate after all.

Blake simply couldn’t afford the publicity.

She launched herself toward the tangle surrounding Torchwick. Cane locked against the ginger girl’s swords, he was vulnerable to the monkey faunus swinging a stun baton at his head.

The baton rasped off Blake’s swordstick, the boy thrown off balance by her rapid assault. He twirled his batons defensively, blocking her strikes with ease. Nevertheless, Roman used the sudden breathing room to launch his own attack. Planting a foot against his opponent, he shoved her back against the shipping container and cocked his cane.

The girl yelped as three sequential buckshot shells were unloaded into her chest. Torchwick flicked open the cane’s magazine and slapped in a fresh round faster than Blake could blink. With a fluid swing he fended off another attack from Ruby and spun around to face Pyrrha with his cane raised.

Pyrrha didn’t stop her charge, likely counting on her aura to tank the damage and let her get close.

The subsequent explosion when Torchwick fired his HE round bowled her head over heels in a cloud of sparks.

Blake broke off her own engagement, cartwheeling away from the blonde faunus to take a position at Torchwick’s side. The thief grunted in acknowledgement as she drew her pistol and trained it on the students, his own cane carefully tracking the ginger girl with the floating swords.

‘Nice of you to finally join me, Whitey.’

The chirp in the words was undermined by his heavy breathing, but Blake didn’t want to point that out. Couldn’t, rather. Whilst her white coat concealed her normal clothes and the white neck-sock had been pulled up to conceal her mouth and nose, there was nothing she could do to disguise her voice.

They stepped back in unison, the assailing students momentarily held at bay by the threat of their weapons. Likely more the threat of another explosive round from Torchwick’s cane than a hollow point from her pistol, but still.

‘It’s been real, Red, Red and Redder,’ Torchwick said. ‘But I think it’s time we ended this little caper, don’t you? Before someone gets hurt.’

‘If anyone gets hurt today, buddy, that’ll be on your hands,’ the blonde faunus advanced another step, brow furrowed angrily. ‘You still have the chance to surrender.’

‘Surrender? When I’m the one with all the firepower?’

For once, Blake couldn’t help but agree with Torchwick’s incredulous laughter. Armed, things might have been a different story. Unarmed? She and Torchwick could likely take all of them and still have breath to spare.

‘Torchwick!’ A loud and happy voice called from the stacked containers above them. ‘What was that you were saying about firepower?’

The pair’s eyes travelled upwards. They locked on a tall figure, raven hair streaming in the wind, the sunset in the west putting fire into her crimson eyes. Eyes that matched the battle scythe now resting in her hands.

Behind her, half a dozen of Beacon’s rocket pods were completing their landing sequences. Team JSPR and Team BYRN would have their weaponry in the next few minutes.

Under normal circumstances, Blake might have dropped a clone and bolted into the shadows. Now, of course, that would be as good as mailing a signed confession to Ozpin informing him that she’d be stopping by in ten minutes for her arrest.

So she did the next best thing.

\----------------------------------

Ruby racked Crescent Rose into sniper form as it happened. The shorter thief, the one in the ridiculous neck-sock and fedora, turned and grabbed Torchwick’s cane out of his hand. Before Ruby could even shoulder her weapon, the thief fired it at a shipping container.

The one at the very bottom of Ruby’s stack.

Speed saved her. Not just speed of travel, but speed of analysis. Torchwick’s cane shot high explosive rounds. And the fight just so happened to be in an arena of the most volatile material known to mankind.

Ruby was already moving and screaming out her warning when it happened. The explosion vaporised its own container and each container around it. The chain reaction of dust felt like a cataclysm erupting under her feet. It might have vaporised her if she’d been a fraction slower. But explosions weren’t the only reaction.

Ice dust destabilised and erupted into instant glaciers. Earth dust ripped and tore at the ground, sending hunters and goons alike tumbling. A lightning storm raged by the crane, gravity dust bounced shipping containers like rubber balls, and those still on their feet were sent flying.

‘Yang!’ Ruby twisted in mid-air, riding the currents with ease. ‘Yang, where are you?’

Bending her legs to cushion the impact, she bounced off two flying containers and sliced through a third. It was like picking a path through a forest in a windstorm, nothing she hadn’t before. Only this time, the cost of misjudging a leap wouldn’t be a joke and a kiss to a bruised knee from Dad.

The girl from Snowcap, Penny, was the only one still on her feet in the maelstrom. She was holding on tight to Sun, keeping him steady. Pyrrha had grabbed Jaune and Ren, all three of them taking shelter behind one of Weiss’ glyph. Yang was nowhere to be seen.

But Ruby saw Torchwick.

He and his partner were fleeing toward the waterfront, ducking the worst of the shrapnel as they scampered toward their escape vehicle, a small boat resting by the docks. Leaving their muscle behind. Leaving them all to deal with the chaos. Abandoning others to save themselves.

She saw red.

Petals scattered as Ruby descended, scythe chambered back for a strike at Torchwick’s unprotected back. In the cacophony behind them, Torchwick never heard her coming.

His partner did.

The woman stepped in front of him to intercept the strike, her cane braced in both hands to absorb the overhead slash of the scythe. It was a textbook block, her stance wide and low, her weapon perfectly positioned. The thief hadn’t accounted for the physics.

Crescent Rose weighed exactly fourteen and a half kilograms. From a standing position Ruby’s strikes could carve devastating chunks of any aura. Accelerated by her semblance and gravity, the effect was magnified a hundred-fold.

The blade of the scythe sliced through the cane and the swordstick within like soft chalk. The wicked hook at the end struck the woman on her shoulder. Aura flared for a single moment and collapsed. The blade didn’t stop.

Blood coated Ruby from head to toe, scarlet fluid spurting from the diagonal slash her scythe had gouged from right shoulder to left hip. In an instant Ruby felt her heart swell, the rush of victory bringing a giddy smile to her face. She’d done it. She’d beaten a rogue huntress on her own. She’d shown that Dad and Yang and Ozpin were all right to believe in…

 _‘No…’_ The cry from the woman in white was like a bucket of ice water. ‘Not like this…’

Gloved hands cradled her wounds, the slow whine in her throat growing stronger with horror and panic. Crescent Rose went slack in Ruby’s hand, her triumph turning to ashes in her mouth as the woman… _girl_ began to sob.

‘It _hurts_ …’ the thief staggered backwards, toppling to the side as she tried to stem the bleeding. ‘Dad it hurts so much…help me…’

Ruby’s legs gave out. She fell to her knees, heart hammering out of her chest as she watched the blood pooling around the girl’s body. Gathering up her hood, she tried to press it against the injury she’d inflicted, wincing as the girl cried out again.

‘I’m sorry…’ Ruby whimpered. ‘I’m so sorry…please don’t die. Please don’t…I’m sorry, I’m sorry…’

The crack of Torchwick’s cane on the side of her head put an end to her apologies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So ends Arc 1 of Red-eyed Ruby. The story has taken some strange turns since I initially conceived it as a series of brief one shots. In the initial sequence of things, it was going to skip straight from Ruby's childhood to the Fall, but a few random ideas got stuck in my head and I had to expand the scheme of the plot in order to make them stick. Something I'm actually quite glad about, since it's giving me the chance to write in the heads of a few more characters like Blake, etc.
> 
> Hope you've enjoyed so far and you'll join me for Arc 2, for more of Tai being best Dad, more of Raven being worst Mum, and we introduce a third parent who really is trying their best.


	11. 'the alliance of convenience'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blake clings to life after the battle on the docks. Thousands of miles from home, her fate in the hands of criminals and murderers, the freedom fighter begins to wonder just how far over her head the water goes.

_‘Dad it hurts. It hurts so much. Help me…I’m scared…’_

‘Get her on the table! Clear the damn way!’

_‘Mom…I’m so sorry…you tried to tell me. You tried…’_

‘Get that doctor from Seventh Street, the one with the stitching semblance. Godsdamnit, Neo, don’t roll your eyes at me. I’m the one holding her guts in, you can go and get the doctor. Move it you little freeloader.’

_Sienna…I failed you…I failed all of you…_

Images swam before her eyes, Captain Rodentia’s body trying to shield her from Dad’s corpse. Walking behind the casket as they carried him toward the pyre. Mom’s tears as she held her close. Sienna’s speech, her _rage_ , she and Ilia swearing their oaths…

_Is this how it ends? Bleeding out on a pool table a thousand miles from home? What a glorious death for the revolution._

‘Tch, Roman, you bring them in younger all the damn time.’

‘Neo is twenty five, Doc, I don’t want to hear any more jokes on the subject. Patch the girl up.’

‘You got my fee?’

‘You’ll get your usual ten thousand when the job is done.’

‘Pfft, what rock you been hiding under? Rates have gone up. I want ten now and another ten when the job is done.’

‘Hmm, Neo?’

‘Ah!’

‘The girl, Doc.’

The scream that ripped out of Blake’s lungs as her whole body burned was loud enough to make her own ears ring.

‘Hold her steady! She’ll tear it right back open again!’

‘Neo, hold her legs!’

Strong arms pressed down on Blake’s shoulders. ‘Easy there, kitty cat. We’re trying to fix you. Stay still, huh?’

Blake’s vision cleared. Torchwick’s face hovered above her own. His hat was missing, his face streaked with grime and hair matted. Blood was speckled over the white of his jacket, a match for bloodstains around his broken nose.

‘It hurts…please…stop…’

‘Can’t do that.’ He managed to strain a smile. ‘You got a small flesh wound back there. Big Red packs a mean left, gotta watch out for those southpaws. Can’t trust them. Lefties make good thieves.’

‘Look…who’s talking?’ The laugh came out as a gurgle.

‘Easy kid, I’m hysterical, I know. But you have to keep it calm. Keep it cool. Just remember what you’re fighting for?’

‘Faunus liberation?’

‘Nah, fat stacks of cash. Huge piles of lien. You’re crazy enough to fire an HE shell at a dust cache. Just can’t buy that kind of talent.’

The pain receded, leaving only the angry fire across her chest and stomach.

‘Is she good?’ Torchwick snarled.

‘I’ve patched up the worst of it. She keeps twitching like that though and she’ll tear herself back open.’

‘Then give her something for it. Knock her out.’

‘Come on, Roman, you know I don’t keep much of the good stuff…’

‘You shoot it all up your own arm, you mean? Neo, pay this degenerate and get him out of my hideout.’

‘Pleasure doing business with you, Roman.’

‘Uh huh, if your semblance wasn’t so useful I’d have her cut your throat. Now fuck off.’ Torchwick kept Blake pinned down with one hand as he fished out his scroll. ‘What was the damn number…’

Blake smiled again as her eyes flickered. ‘You said hideout…thought only amateurs said…’

There was a crack as something struck her across the face. Her eyes snapped open, something indignant on her tongue. Roman was glaring, but not at her. Blake tracked his eyes to see a mismatched set of eyes peeking at her from behind a shock of matching hair.

‘Neo, don’t slap the guest. Not so hard, anyway. We need her awake, not concussed.’ Roman pressed his scroll to his ear. ‘Make yourself useful and get the IV bags out of the fridge and warm them up. She needs fluids.’

The short girl rolled her eyes, moving her hands in a series of quick gestures that Blake was almost positive weren’t actual sign language. Roman seemed to understand it just fine.

‘I know she’s ruining date night.’

More signing.

‘And the pool table. Look, it’s been a long afternoon and this kid is d-…’ He paused, glancing down at Blake. ‘…is in pretty bad shape. Now get the IVs or get out.’

Blake lost focus after that, a haze settling over her thoughts that was at once too hot and too cold to be comfortable. She heard the click of heels and the slam of a fridge door. Something cold pierced the skin of her arm.

Roman was babbling into his scroll. ‘…yeah the green one with the freaky eyes. Look don’t play dumb, I saw what she did to that guy. Can she make those little mind trips pleasant? Good. Get her over here now.’

Blake drifted again. The pain didn’t fade, not exactly. But she no longer lay on the hard, felt-covered surface of Roman’s pool table. Instead, she was lying on a soft mattress supported by pillows. A warm quilt covered her and soft hands stroked her hair.

‘I’m here, Blake…’ A woman’s voice murmured tenderly. She didn’t know it, but she trusted it. The owner of that voice cared about her. Would protect her. Would keep her safe. Would keep so safe and warm and loved…

\-------------------------------

She opened her eyes and the pain was gone. As were her clothes.

A quick check revealed that she was still wearing pants, an unfamiliar set of pyjamas. In fairness, a top might not have been necessary. Her torso was wrapped so thickly with bandages that not an inch of skin was showing.

Nor was the pain entirely gone, either. There was a very definite ache from her right shoulder across her chest and stomach down to her left hip. But anything was an improvement over the blood she’d last seen soaking through her clothes. The bandages, at least, were still pure white. Freshly changed by the smell of them. She couldn’t stifle her wince as she pushed herself up on her elbow.

She was as weak as a newborn, arms and legs shaking with the effort it took to push back the sheets and roll to the edge of the…very large bed?

‘Ah, you’re finally awake.’

Blake’s head snapped to the source of the voice, her eyes narrowing as she locked them on Cinder. The woman smiled pleasantly back at her. ‘Did you sleep well, Blake?’

‘Passably.’ She had to force the words past gritted teeth. ‘Help me up.’

‘What’s the magic word?’

Blake hoped she was conveying the full weight of her hatred with her eyes. The involuntary twitch in her left eye probably spoiled the effect. Cinder seemed more amused than intimidated.

‘Emerald?’ Cinder called down the hall. ‘Come help our young freedom fighter to the table. There’s much to discuss.’

Blake tried to push herself all the way up without much success. The green-haired girl from Haven…were they really from Haven? They were some kind of criminals, that was for sure. No faunus traits. No evidence of bleeding hearts. There _were_ human sympathisers out there. The Fang couldn’t have operated without them. Cinder and her associates didn’t strike her as the sympathetic type.

‘Would you like me to help you dress?’ The girl…Emerald, held out a button up shirt.

Blake shook her head, steadfastly ignoring the twinge rippling across her body. She closed her eyes and breathed, her aura manifesting a moment later. The pain didn’t disappear but it eased enough to let her sit up straight and take the shirt. She was glad for the buttons. Even pulling a t-shirt over her head would have required more flexibility than she could currently muster.

‘What day is it?’

‘It’s a Sunday.’

‘I slept all weekend?’

‘Umm…’ Emerald glanced back to the door. The silver haired boy leaning against frame just grinned back at her. ‘Well, you kind of…’

‘Slept like a baby for two weeks,’ the boy said. ‘It was adorable. Emerald sat in that chair over there, hit you with some pleasant illusions whenever you started tossing and turning. Even scratched your ears when you asked for it.’

Emerald’s eyes narrowed. A moment later the boy yelped and toppled over.

‘Not cool, Em!’ He glared at her. ‘You know I hate those things.’

‘I know.’ Emerald studied her nails with a tiny smile. ‘That’s why I don’t use them too often. Don’t want you getting used to them, do I? Who would have thought Mercury Black would be afraid of…’

‘Alright, alright, I get it…’ Mercury beat a hasty retreat. ‘Could you hurry up with the invalid? I’m hungry.’

Emerald ignored him, turning back to Blake as she finished buttoning up the shirt. ‘Can you walk?’

Blake tested her footing, tensing the muscles in her leg to slowly aid her rise. There was more strength than she’d hoped for, but less stability. It might take days for her to get back to normal.

‘I can walk,’ she finally said. ‘But if you could support me…’

Emerald shifted to her side, extending an arm for Blake to lean on. Blake continued to wince at each step, but refused to do anymore than steady herself against the older girl. Making their way out of the strangely luxurious bedroom, the pair approached the main room of the safehouse.

The first thing she noticed was the absence of the pool table. She was grateful for that, at least. There would be no need to relive her near death experience every time she glanced at it. The second was the food.

The long mahogany table in the centre of the room hadn’t been there before. A recent acquisition, probably. As were the steaming plates one of Roman’s men was quietly distributing. Roman himself was kicked back on one of the overstuffed armchairs, cigar smoke lazily drifting from his mouth as he removed his boots from the table.

‘Kitty cat, you’re awake.’ It was strange how genuine he was able to make his smile. Blake would have been almost impressed. ‘I trust you had sweet dreams?’

‘Thanks to Emerald, yes she did.’ Cinder answered in Blake’s place. ‘Once Sienna sent me that picture and voice recording of herself and Blake’s parents, Emerald was able to simulate a range of caring figures to ease her through recovery.’

Blake recoiled at the implication. ‘You used my father’s voice?’

‘Yes.’ There was a twinge of fear in Emerald’s voice. ‘It got the most positive reaction out of you. You’d calm right down if I…’

Blake pushed herself away, glaring daggers at the girl. ‘How dare you?’

‘You should be nicer to Emerald,’ Cinder said, buttering a scone and smearing it with jam. Blake didn’t believe for a second that the reproach in her voice was genuine, but Emerald was beaming at the second-hand compliment. ‘After all, she’s been your constant nurse the last few weeks. Fed you, changed your bandages. Bathed you, even.’

Blake’s brow furrowed with involuntary distaste. ‘Really?’

‘You would have preferred me to do it? Or Roman’s pet killer?’

Roman scowled at the insult, but Blake took the point. The green-haired girl wasn’t ideal, but she couldn’t feel the same air of malice around her as with Cinder or the short girl. ‘Thank you, Emerald.’

‘You’re welcome.’

‘Excellent. Now, could we stop standing around and eat some of this very expensive breakfast?’

It _was_ an expensive breakfast. Better even than what Blake was accustomed to at Beacon. Smoked salmon, poached eggs, sautéed spinach, freshly baked muffins. All of it served on suspiciously fine china. She wondered if that was Cinder’s affectation or Roman’s? Both of them looked as though they were accustomed to the best of everything. In her childhood on Menagerie, so had Blake. Five brutal years as Sienna’s apprentice had cured her of that.

Emerald, at least, had needed no further invitation. Piling up her plate with a cheerful smile, the girl tucked into the food with an abundance of hunger and a distinct lack of table manners. The growl in Blake’s stomach overcame her discomfort. She loaded the plate lightly, wary of over-eating. She’d once seen Ilia suffer a monstrous stomach-ache when she’d stuffed herself after a week with no food. It wouldn’t do to start vomiting in front of her erstwhile allies.

Dad had once noted that you could tell a lot about a person by the way they ate. Blake didn’t know how well that advice applied whilst eating in a room full of thieves and liars, but still. Aside from Emerald, who was about half a step away from shovelling it away with her bare hands, everyone in the room had some kind of act going on.

Mercury, leaning back in his chair with his legs crossed, had compiled himself some kind of bacon and egg sandwich, but his eyes never left Neo. Neo, on the other hand, was tucking into a small mountain of waffles and ice cream without a care in the world. However, the sheer amount of random cutlery scattered around her could not possibly have been a coincidence.

Cinder and Roman gave nothing away, which itself gave something away. Cinder ate with the fastidious good manners of someone who might have been born in wealth, like Weiss. Almost better. Like she’d learned them far more recently and was still practicing the motions in her head. Roman had a similar look of boredom to Mercury, but unlike Mercury it looked completely genuine. The only thing that gave him away was that only a sociopath could have been bored with the tension currently in the air.

The clink of knives and the sound of chewing was occasionally interrupted by requests to pass the salt or butter. At Emerald’s request, Blake poured her a cup of tea. That, more than anything else, marked the girl as an amateur. Sienna, even among her inner circle, had always poured her own tea.

Cinder pushed her plate away, dabbing daintily at her lips with a napkin. Blake noted that there wasn’t a scrap of food left on her plate. She was as hungry as Emerald, just with better etiquette. She didn’t know why that added to the unease that had been building since the older woman first brought the book.

‘Now that we’ve had our hunger somewhat sated, perhaps it’s time to catch you up on what you’ve missed?’ Cinder addressed Blake with the same overly-familiar manner as before. And, like before, it made her skin crawl.

She had to remember why she was doing this. ‘Did the dust reach Sienna?’

‘A week ago,’ Cinder said. ‘Since then, the White Fang has been attacking on all fronts. The local militia have been smashed in a series of skirmishes and an entire Atlesian platoon was captured when Sienna lured them into an ambush. There are already whispers that the Mistral Assembly will offer terms.’

‘Then our arrangement…’

Cinder cut her off. ‘Will continue until Sienna says otherwise. A few small battles do not make the faunus undisputed owners of the DZ. Besides, there are still my own goals to consider.’

‘Which are?’

‘To be revealed on a need to know basis.’ Cinder sighed reproachfully. ‘Come, Blake, you’re a freedom fighter. You should know the value of compartmentalisation.’

Blake bristled. ‘I know that I’m being used as hired muscle by criminals I don’t know. I don’t care how much you think I owe you…’

‘There’s no thought involved.’ Cinder said coldly. ‘You _do_ owe me. Not just for the dust, but for making sure that you won’t be arrested back at Beacon.’

Blake shot a glance at Roman, who shrugged helplessly.

‘A lot of work has gone into keeping you alive and your cover intact, Blake,’ Cinder said. ‘Ozpin, soft touch that he is, called an early end to term after the incident at the docks. Neo has maintained your online profile, whilst Mercury has arranged several alibis with you and he.’

‘How, I’ve been in a coma?’

‘Neo?’

There was a flutter of pink crystals. In a moment, Blake was staring at an identical version of herself, right down to the ears. And, unlike a clone, this one was staring at her with a decidedly uncharacteristic smirk.

‘I take it there is a price tag for your generosity?’

Roman sent her a look. On anyone else that look would have said _‘are you kidding me?’_ , but with Roman it might have also meant _‘I’m out of mascara’_ so she chose to continue.

‘There _is_ a price attached. After all, I wouldn’t like to belittle the faunus by implying you require charity.’

‘Thoughtful of you.’

‘Isn’t it? At any rate, I’d like you to keep hitting dust depots with Roman as soon as you’ve healed. Security has increased in many areas, but Roman is confident he can find the gaps soon enough.’

Roman snorted. ‘I said there are usually gaps, there’s a difference.’

‘And I have full faith that you will find them.’ Cinder favoured him with a broad smile. ‘Come now, Roman. We’re having a lovely breakfast and exquisite coffee, celebrating Blake’s return to good health and all you can do is find flaws. Would it kill you to be positive?’

Roman chose to take a long sip of his coffee before answering. ‘With respect, boss…’ no one could have missed the accent he put on the last word, ‘…but this is twice now that simple job has gone drastically wrong because of student interference. In my line of work, we tend to see patterns as a very bad thing.’

‘Are you trying to renege on our agreement, Roman?’

Neo’s spoon and Mercury’s fork froze at the same time, eyes narrowing at the chill in her tone. Neo set her ice cream waffle aside with a regretful shake of her head. Mercury uncrossed his legs.

‘I’m not reneging on anything.’ Roman’s hands were flat on the table, his cane leaning on the side of his chair. No man made such a conscious effort not to appear a threat unless he was either very confident or very scared.

‘I should hope not. You’re being very well paid, after all.’

‘What I’m saying is that my bounty has doubled since the docks. My old warrants were a joke. A painting here, some jewellery there. Hell, it was almost a mark of high society to get robbed by Roman Torchwick. Showed you were rich enough to be worth robbing. Now I’m wanted for attempted murder and as soon as they figure this dust is headed for the Fang I’ll be up for aiding and abetting terrorism and international arms trafficking.’

‘Your point?’

Roman exhaled steadily, his eyes fixed on Cinder’s nose rather than her eyes. ‘My point is that you’re pushing me against targets I don’t have to hit. The depots are the worst places to take dust from. Security is always too heavy. I could hit the supply trucks. The stores. Hell, I could train up a hundred pickpockets to hit the Beacon students when they’re drunk in the clubs.’

‘That would be slower.’

‘A hundred trickles make a stream. Couple of streams make a river. Pickpockets don’t get hunted down by hunters. Everyone wins if the heat dies down on me. You most of all.’

Cinder leaned forward, propping her elbows up on the table. Blake didn’t miss how she shifted her centre of gravity along with it.

‘I hope you don’t mean to say that _I_ would be vulnerable if you were to be arrested?’

‘Not in the slightest.’ Roman didn’t so much as blink. ‘I simply mean to say that the more I rob, the more lien the police throw at their major crimes unit and the more huntsmen get put on my tail. If an investigator ties us together then it won’t matter if I’m arrested or not.’

‘Ah, so you do it for my benefit.’ Cinder offered him an indulgent smile. ‘I accept the risks, Roman. Continue hitting the list of targets I gave you. Quantity is more important than discretion for now. I will inform you of any changes to my intent. Is that all?’

Roman must have not trusted himself to speak, simply shrugging as he leaned back in his chair. Cinder finished her breakfast with a few dainty bites, Emerald polishing off the last two muffins in the time it took her mistress to collect her things. If nothing else, Blake could respect the determination not to waste food.

No one in the room spoke for a long time after Cinder and her underlings had departed. Neo continued to work her way through her ice cream, a mournful expression on her face despite the sweet treat.

Roman eventually looked back to Blake. ‘You got that as well, right?’

‘That she doesn’t care how much heat you draw. That she’s fine with huntsmen targeting you. That her plans require large amounts of dust in the short term, indicating that she has no requirement for you as a long-term asset?’

‘That was the gist of it, yeah.’

‘Right. Right…’ Roman considered his coffee for one final moment. Then he nodded, snatching up his cane with new energy. ‘I’m going to rob something. Clear my head.’

‘Want me to come?’

‘No, you’ve got school tomorrow and I want you to be well rested, young lady.’

Neo made a delighted gesture with her hands clasped together, drawing another scowl out of Blake. Roman cackled as Neo made a further series of signs.

‘Oh, Neo says you’ll probably have some apologies to make as well.’

‘Apologies? For what?’

‘How do I put this? Neo put up quite a few photos of you partying, clubbing, enjoying fine dining all over Vale. And since most of your teammates and friends were in hospital...’

Blake flinched. ‘Son of a…’

‘Bitch,’ Yang greeted Blake neutrally.

‘Yang.’ Blake didn’t trust herself to say more. The almost neutral expression she’d managed to earn out of those silver eyes had degraded to active dislike.

‘I really hope you enjoyed your holiday. Bitch.’

 _Intensely_ active dislike.

‘I didn’t realise everyone’s injuries were so bad…’ It sounded weak to both sets of her ears.

‘They were bad enough to put Weiss in a burn ward for five days and put Jaune under observation for nerve damage. Bad enough to give Ren a concussion and put Nora on crutches for a week. Ciel is still getting dizzy spells, Neptune hasn’t got full range of movement yet…’

‘I don’t know who those last two are.’

‘Maybe you would if you’d answered your messages and come back like I repeatedly asked.’

Blake opened and shut her mouth before a retort could escape her. Technically, _very_ technically, Yang was in the right. She had no way of knowing that Blake’s own injuries had nearly sent her to the grave. As far as Yang knew, her team leader had been partying whilst her team was suffering.

Blake was going to beat the multi-coloured midget into some very new and interesting shades once she got her hands on her.

‘You’ve really got nothing to say to us?’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘Oh, that just fixes everything, doesn’t it?’ Yang turned to Nora and Ren, both of whom had been steadfastly focusing on looking anywhere but her. ‘What do you think, guys? Does it excuse not getting in touch with us for two weeks? Not checking up on us in the infirmary? Not answering our calls?’

‘I’m not getting drawn into this,’ Ren said. He was sharpening the edge of his sword, his eyes focused on the blade as he ran the oilstone along both sides of the jian. ‘Not when I believe you will have immense cause to regret it. I would recommend waiting until tempers have cooled.’

Nora hesitated, eyes flicking between her two friends. ‘Bella…you promised you wouldn’t make us worry again…we didn’t know where you were and you wouldn’t answer our calls.’

‘I know I promised…’ Blake searched the ceiling as if it would provide the answers. ‘I just wanted…I need a break. And when Ozpin called the term early I thought I should take it.’

‘Ozpin didn’t call the term until Monday,’ Yang’s eyes flashed in the light. Blake could have sworn she saw the silver brighten unnaturally for a moment. ‘You had the whole weekend to come back and you chose not to. The docks were all over the news, you knew we were injured and you didn’t care. Your own team and you _didn’t care._ ’

Blake flinched away from them, unable to stand the accusation in their glares. ‘I know I haven’t done the best job as team leader but…’

‘Jaune did a better job than you with a double dose of painkillers and an arm in a sling!’

‘I’m going to try and be better,’ Blake said quickly. ‘I promise.’

‘Then you’ll stop running off into town without telling anyone where you’re going?’

Blake hesitated. There was no way she could keep that promise. Not if Cinder was going to keep making her assist Roman with his robberies. And if she gave Yang a fake location then it would be all too easy to be caught in a lie. Anonymity was her best and only defence. Cinder might give her an alibi, but that too would come with a price.

Yang saw the hesitation. With a loud snort she stormed over to her drawers and began pulling them open. Pulling out her clothes, she began piling them into a bag. Ren sighed in response.

‘Yang, don’t be dramatic…’

‘I’m being as logical as I can be,’ Yang shot back. ‘I can’t stay in a team led by her. I can’t put my trust in a teammate, in a _leader_ that’s going to keep running away from her team. I’ll crash in JSPR’s room until we can sort things out with Ozpin.’

Blake’s eyes narrowed. ‘Now who’s being immature? Are you just going to take up space with them just to spite me?’

‘They’ve got a bed to spare. Ruby’s back on Patch.’

‘And you don’t think she’ll be upset when she comes back and finds you sleeping in her bed?’

‘Well I don’t think that’s going to happen.’ Yang slammed the drawer shut. ‘Ruby isn’t coming back to Beacon.’

Blake paused. ‘What?’

‘Need me to spell it out for you?’ Yang wiped her arm across her face, dashing off her angry tears. ‘Ruby is back at Signal. She quit.’


	12. 'the girl who stayed home'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> JSPR tries to adapt to a team without Ruby. Ruby tries to adapt to a return to Signal. Dark wings watch and wait for an opportunity.

Weiss smoothed down the skirt, changing her angle in the mirror to make sure the new ensemble could flow freely. It felt a little more restrictive, but that was to be expected considering the weight of the extra material.

‘Well?’ She turned back to her audience with opened arms. ‘What do you think?’

Pyrrha and Jaune exchanged a knowing smile that might have made her stomp her foot a few weeks ago. Now it brought a pout to her face that was only half-serious.

‘You look lovely, Weiss,’ Pyrrha said. She stood up from the bed, circling Weiss once before giving a satisfied nod. ‘The seamstress did a wonderful job lengthening it. Did you do the same with all your combat outfits?’

‘And my uniforms.’ Weiss confirmed. She hesitated for a moment. ‘I know it’s a little impractical…perhaps I should have worn trousers instead?’

Jaune surprised her by taking her hands. ‘I think the long skirts work great. A lot of my sisters liked them, especially Sapphire. She liked the way they twirled.’

As if demonstrate, Jaune spun her in a surprisingly smooth pirouette. Weiss couldn’t repress the giggle that slipped past her lips as her new skirt twirled as promised. Her partner’s smile perfectly matched Pyrrha’s. They’d all had far too little to smile about of late.

‘Well then, shall we kick off the first day of the new term?’ Jaune said. He took one step toward the door before Pyrrha halted him, a reproving flare to her eyebrows and a piece of cloth in her hands.

‘And you really thought I was going to let you out without wearing this?’ She said.

‘Pyrrha…’

‘I’m sorry,’ Pyrrha said, slipping the sling around his neck and placing his left arm inside it. ‘Doctor’s orders.’

‘It was just a dislocation,’ Jaune whined.

‘It was a violent dislocation.’ Weiss corrected him, helping Pyrrha fasten the sling at the back of his neck. ‘You could have had nerve damage in that arm.’

He continued to protest, heedless of the exasperated looks Pyrrha and Weiss were shooting at each other. ‘It was nothing. Not compared to you or to Neptune. Even Yang was more banged up than me.’

‘You’re sweet.’ Pyrrha popped a kiss on his cheek. Jaune immediately trailed off, face flushing bright red. ‘But do shut up.’

‘Very sweet,’ Weiss agreed, going up on her toes to pop a kiss on his other cheek. ‘But I second Pyrrha’s idea.’

Thoroughly silenced, Jaune allows his teammates to lead him out of the room. Weiss drew her shoulders back, breathed clearly through her nose and let the tension float away. It was a brand new day, and a brand new team would have to deal with it.

\----------------------

Ruby smoothed down the lines of her new uniform. Old uniform. The grey blazer and green skirt that was the standard girl’s uniform for Signal Preparatory had been waiting for her exactly where she’d left it. Dad had ironed it before she put it away, she didn’t even need to pick lint off the sleeves.

It was familiar. Comfortable, even. Like an old skin she could slip back into where nothing had changed. That was what she had to focus on. Not the sense of diminishment compared to the Beacon uniforms that now sat in cardboard boxes.

‘Ruby! Breakfast!’

Zwei’s happy barking that followed that declaration brought a smile back to her face on reflex. The smell of crisp, thick cut bacon seasoned by fresh herbs from the garden wrapped around her like a warm blanket.

‘Coming!’ She called out. Noticing a crow creeping along her windowsill, she quickly shut her window to prevent it flying inside. It angrily squawked, then flew off. One last check in the mirror saw her walk out the door and down the stairs. She stopped by Yang’s room for a moment, hand resting on the wood. She pulled away. Yang had already gone back to Beacon days ago. She had to stop sneaking into her sister’s room when she wasn’t there.

Dad was whistling cheerfully as he bustled around the kitchen table. He was neatly dressed in his own uniform, Signal’s teachers didn’t wear their combat outfits in class. Not ready for action at any moment like Professor Peach or Miss Goodwitch.

‘Morning.’ Dad pressed a quick kiss to her forehead as she sat down. ‘How are you feeling?’

‘Better,’ Ruby said automatically. Dad paused for a moment, his lips twitching with more unspoken questions. She beat him to the punch. ‘Are you teaching the seniors today?’

Dad shook his head. ‘No, Professor Jameson has me running the Advanced Combat Class today. Competition season is starting soon and most of the freshmen want some extra sparring before try-outs. I could do with some help if you’re keen?’

‘Maybe another time.’ Ruby tossed a bit of bacon from her plate in the air, Zwei gracefully sailing past her ear to catch it before it could arc down. ‘Can you drive me?’

‘You don’t want to walk?’ Dad looked surprised at that. ‘I think all the birds in Vera Valley have been missing you.’

‘Except for the magpies?’

‘Except the magpies,’ he confirmed. ‘The view is pretty beautiful at the moment, though. Spring’s in full swing, it’d be a shame to be cooped up in a car for a morning like this.’

‘I just…don’t really feel up to it. Maybe tomorrow?’

Dad wanted to say more. Ruby wasn’t sure if she wanted him to or not. Eventually he just nodded. ‘Sure thing, sweetheart. Maybe we can both walk tomorrow?’

‘Yeah. Sure thing.’ Pushing her plate away, Ruby stood. ‘Thanks for breakfast.’

‘My pleasure. I’m glad your appetite’s coming back.’ He didn’t comment on how much smaller her portions were than they used to be. Maybe he was just grateful she wasn’t sneaking most of it to Zwei?

‘Don’t forget your hood.’ Dad nodded to the neatly folded cloak lying beside her schoolbag. ‘Let me just start up the car. She’s a second-hand buy and the engine’s a bit of a fixer-upper. Huh, that’s what I get for letting Yang take Zippy to Beacon.’

Ruby only half-listened to him bemoaning the loss of his beloved station-wagon. She examined the cape for a moment, eyes roving over the mended tears. Dad’s needlework was as good as his fabric care. At a casual glance no one would be able to tell that it had been torn anymore than they could tell it had been soaked with blood.

Up close she could tell. By the faint staining at the edges. By the lingering smell that wouldn’t fade. She could feel the squish of wet fabric in her hands as she tried to stem the bleeding. Hear the panicked whimpering that preceded her victim’s death rattle…

‘I’m so sorry,’ she murmured.

She left the cape lying on the table.

\------------------------------

‘How are you feeling?’

Weiss had spent two longs weeks planning exactly what she was going to say to the girl in front of her. Mostly those things took the form of a very detailed outline of exactly how, when and where Bella Ebony could place her opinions, sarcastic eyerolls and her sword.

She was irked that the misery on the other girl’s face would have taken all the satisfaction out of saying it.

‘I’m a little stiff,’ Weiss said. ‘The burns were quite bad, but I should have full range of motion soon enough. I wasn’t able to go back to Atlas for the break though.’

‘Couldn’t your family have come to you?’

Weiss might have snorted, but Bella looked genuinely surprised at the news. Then again, she hadn’t been there for _that_ particular conversation.

‘My sister is currently deployed to the peacekeeping efforts in Southern Mistral. My father is…very busy. My brother did send me a get-well card, though.’

‘Oh…that was nice of him.’

‘Wasn’t it?’ Weiss looked down into the auditorium. Oobleck was answering some questions from Yang, the girl’s face tense as she nodded toward Pyrrha and Jaune. Making a case, perhaps, for why she should be transferred across teams.

She didn’t know how to feel about that. Obviously it would be better to have four people on their team than three. But that would be the same as admitting that it was really happening. That Ruby would never come back. That Team JSPR was now just…JSP. Or JSPY. Or JSPX. Her sense of aesthetics wouldn’t permit it.

Bella had already wandered off to take her seat. Today she sat far away from the rest of them, over the far side of the theatre with some of the remedial students like Velvet and Coco.

‘Hey, Cardin,’ she heard Jaune say. ‘Would you mind moving along? It’s a bit difficult for Weiss to use the stairs at the moment, so we were hoping to use the top ones.’

Weiss burned with embarrassment at her partner’s indirect mothering. She had to blink, however, when Cardin stood and shuffled out of the way with a muttered acknowledgement. Jaune turned back toward her, his smile bright as he indicated her new seat. He’d bounced back faster than most of them, seemingly determined to keep up his smile despite all the injuries.

Despite Ruby’s absence.

Had Weiss really found them all unbearable? Who had changed more in such a short time? Had that really been her who’d grabbed Jaune as a partner twelve weeks ago just to get her hands on Pyrrha’s skill and Ruby’s strength? Impossible. That girl felt so silly. So selfish.

Then again, twelve weeks ago Jaune had been struggling to wield his own sword and shield. She’d helped him to become better. They all had. Peach had been right. She didn’t need to be the commander to be a leader within the team.

She felt closer to them. The ones who had been there to see it. All the rest of them were just…pretenders. Cardin Winchester _should_ shy away from Pyrrha and Jaune when they sat down. Coco Adel _should_ stand aside when Nora and Ren passed. They were all veterans now. Winter’s books had mentioned that such experiences could change people. Hardship somehow birthing camaraderie. Violence somehow creating humour. The shadow of death…what did that make them?

When she had faced the Giga Armas, Weiss had known death was a possibility. But never, not even when the blade had sliced through her face, had she ever realistically considered the possibility of dying. Death would come for someone else. Someone slower, weaker, less lucky than her. Even with the dust exploding around her at the docks, Weiss had full confidence in her glyphs to protect them all. She was a Schnee, after all.

Weiss had been wrong. And when her aura broke and the flames had set her skirt on fire, she had been completely certain that this was how death came for her. A greedy flame started by her family’s own Dust. Licking at her legs and promising to devour all of her. As it might have done had Pyrrha and Jaune not thrown themselves atop her to smother it.

Sitting between them now brought the memories back full force. The flames, yes, but also what came after. Jaune holding her hand and cradling her against his chest as Pyrrha treated her burns. The two of them reading to her, bringing her meals, watching terrible TV by her side until she was out of the burn ward.

They weren’t just Weiss’ teammates anymore. Not in her heart.

Pyrrha looked almost startled when Weiss took her hand, then Jaune’s. Both of them raised an eyebrow in a move so synchronised that she giggled on reflex.

‘It’s nothing,’ she whispered. ‘I’m just glad we’re all here.’

But not all of them were. Ruby was gone. That was…unacceptable.

\-----------------------------

‘Ruby!’ A bright voice sounded from behind her. ‘You came back!’

Ruby didn’t have to force the smile that crossed her lips as she turned to face Arete Smith. ‘What can I say? The big city wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.’

‘I can imagine,’ Arete’s pretty face wrinkled. ‘All that smoke and smog? Your hood would have gotten so dirty.’

‘Yeah…’

‘Speaking of which…’ Arete glanced behind Ruby. ‘Why aren’t you wearing it? Was it a Beacon thing? Wouldn’t they let you wear what you wanted?’

‘No, I…I still wore it there.’ Ruby paused. Dad hadn’t mentioned its absence, but she’d seen the questions in his eyes. The answers she’d prepared were…less than convincing now that she had to say them aloud. ‘The hood just seemed a little childish.’

‘Oh…okay.’ Arete hesitated for a moment. ‘Well, we should get to class, right?’

They walked down the halls. Signal was not a small school. Despite being on Patch, its reputation was good enough for many mainlanders to cough up the necessary fees for daily transport or boarding. It boasted nearly four hundred students, over half of them in the hunter preparation program. Technically, it was larger than Beacon.

Ruby didn’t know why it felt so small now.

Mrs. Frazier took them for history. After Doctor Oobleck’s rapid patter, it felt like listening to a tortoise give the lecture. Mr. Waller took Grimm Studies. He took an hour to run through the commonly known weak points on a Beowolf. Professor Peach would have jumped into a cage with a live one and shown the most effective way to kill it without a weapon.

That wasn’t what bothered her, really. It was how little attention most of the class seemed to be paying.

Even Cardin and his cronies, obnoxious as they were, didn’t shy away from the academic coursework at Beacon. Ruby had almost felt strangely proud when she’d heard Dove had climbed from a C average on his grades up to a B by the end of first term.

They had wanted to be at Beacon. All of them. From the glazed look in most eyes, very few wanted to be here.

‘You coming to Advanced Combat Class?’ Arete said as they came out of literature. ‘Your dad’s running everyone through solo sparring ahead of the try-outs.’

‘I probably wasn’t going to try out…’

‘Please?’ Arete begged. ‘I need a strong sparring partner and you’re the strongest. You got into Beacon early and everything. Please? You must have so many new moves.’

Ruby wanted to say no. That it was a bad idea. But…wasn’t this it? What she’d come back to Signal for? To let things go back to normal, the way they used to be. She and Arete had been sparring partners since they were children. Maybe not best friends, that had always been Yang, but as close as she’d ever been with anyone. What could be more normal than a friendly spar?

She nodded her consent, Arete squealing with delight as she dragged her toward the training rings. Dad was down the far end, running some of the freshmen through hand-to-hand training. He gave her a concerned look but didn’t break away. She appreciated it. Needed it, even.

Signal only permitted live weapon sparring under teacher supervision. Ruby grabbed one of the training staves instead, as did Arete. Whilst normally the girl fought with a modified dory, the staves would do well enough for now. Less of a challenge, but less of a risk that things might go wrong.

‘Alright, Rubes.’ Arete spun her staff left and right. ‘Show me what you learned in the big city…’

She sprung off her backfoot before she’d finished speaking, an old trick which use to catch Ruby by surprise. After Ruby had watched Bella or Pyrrha pull off moves far more cunning and complex, it was like her friend was moving in slow motion.

A quick tap to the knee and a haft to the chest saw Arete laid out flat on the mat.

The fighting slowed around them, eyes turning inwards to watch the impromptu duel. Arete climbed back to her feet, rolling out her shoulder with a slightly strained smile. Ruby tried to shut out the murmurs around her.

‘Nice move,’ Arete said. ‘That one used to get you all the time.’

‘I had a few sparring partners that liked using similar moves,’ Ruby said.

Arete nodded. ‘I guess that makes sense. I like to think I still have a few tricks, though.’

Her next advance was textbook in style, crisp technique with very few flaws. Seeking to keep Ruby off-balance with well placed strikes whilst shaping her toward a ring-out. Weiss and Ren had favoured similar strategies. There was usually only one solution to them.

Bulling her way into Arete’s guard, Ruby tanked two hits before she could wrap up her friend’s staff and arms at close quarters. Weiss had learned to dodge such a move, and Ren had learned to counter it with aggressive action of his own. Before that, however, they did exactly as Arete did and try to escape. A panicked backstep that allowed Ruby to sweep out both legs with a hook of her ankle.

Arete didn’t both smiling or talking as she scrambled back to her feet. This time she attacked with reckless abandon, large swings and heavy thrust with enough power to make Ruby’s arms shake as she blocked them.

Arete overextended. Ruby sidestepped. The aura monitors beeped with alarm as Arete’s marker dipped into yellow.

Ruby stared down at her friend. Was it only last year that they’d been evenly matched, girl to girl? Arete had been stronger and trickier. But what was that compared to sparring against Nora or Cardin, who could send her flying with a single hit? When it came to tricks, Bella had enough up her sleeve to keep Ruby sprinting around the ring without success. Next to them, fighting Arete was like fighting Zwei. Fun, but the outcome was never in doubt.

Ruby could see the same realisation clicking inside her friend’s eyes. The helplessness.

It matched the eyes of the girl at the docks.

Her staff fell out of her hands, her breathing slowed. Ruby’s eyes fell to her fingers, and the blood she could feel but not see.

‘Okay,’ Dad’s voice broke in. ‘Good clean spar between Arete and Ruby. Arete, I’ll get you to go work with Douglas on the next one. Work on your defence, remember that a quick attack can leave you vulnerable. Ruby, can I get you to…’

Ruby was already running toward the exit, ignoring the stares and whispers that chased her out.

\------------------------------

Tai’s weight settling onto the side of the bed woke her up. He could still see the tear marks on Ruby’s pillow, her eyes and cheeks red and swollen. He drew her into his arms without a word, holding her tight against his chest as she began to sob again.

‘Dad, I…’

‘I know honey. I know.’ He pressed a kiss into her hair. ‘You just wanted things to go back to normal. And they will. You just have to give it time.’

‘They’re scared of me.’

‘They’re not, Ruby. You’re just ahead of them. It’ll push them to be better.’

‘Dad…’ Ruby pushed away from his chest for a moment, her eyes cloudy. ‘I…I like being better than them. I like that they’re scared of me. Just like that girl at the docks was scared of me. I’m just like her. I’m just like Mom and…’

 _‘No._ ’ Tai caught himself. The growl had been far more vicious than he intended, the momentary squeeze of his arms had shocked her into silence. ‘No, Ruby, you are not like her.’

‘How can you be sure?’

‘Ruby…do you think I don’t know my own daughter?’ Tears trickled down his face, dropping onto hers in their turn. ‘I watched you grow up. Raised you myself. Every year, day by day. I know you front and back. You’re a good person. A kind person. If you’re trying to look for links, there aren’t any.’

‘I killed someone.’ Ruby said. She pulled away from him, staring at her hands. ‘Not to protect myself. Not to protect Yang. They were running away…’

‘Maybe.’

‘There was no maybe. The fight was over.’

‘They were criminals and you chased them.’

‘They were just thieves…’ Ruby stared up at him. ‘She didn’t deserve to die just for stealing some dust.’

A bird landed in the window, the black shadow of its wings casting over Tai and Ruby both. Tai ignored it in favour of holding her close.

‘I’m not saying she did. Or that what you’re feeling isn’t…isn’t logical in a way. But these things sometimes happen in battle. Even to the best of us. Part of being a huntsman is accepting it and learning to move on. What you did was justifiable, you heard the police.’

Ruby shook her head, unable to raise her head to meet his eyes. ‘I can’t justify it. Not in my head. She was screaming for her dad…’

Tai kissed her forehead. ‘That still doesn’t make you a monster. Trust me. Monsters don’t cry over these things.’

There was a flutter at the window. The bird already there squawked angrily as another bird slammed into it, both of them disappearing into the trees in a flurry of black feathers.

All of that meant little and less to Tai.

‘Ruby…if you need time, then that’s fine. Even the best take some after moments like these. You don’t need to be strong all the time. It’s fine not to be the strongest huntress around the clock. Healthy, even.’

Ruby pressed her face closer to his chest. ‘Dad, I…I don’t think I want to be a huntress anymore.’

\------------------------------

Raven shifted on the bounce, sword clearing sheathe as she angled herself for an overhead strike on the bird chasing after her. Said bird didn’t oblige her.

Qrow shifted up and over her, aiming a backswing at her neck before his transformation had even finished. Steel rang as blades collided, Qrow grunting as he tried to reposition. They both hit the ground before he could finish.

They transferred the momentum effortlessly, Qrow practically dancing as his scythe swept out toward her legs. Raven had seen the move too many times to be fooled, sidestepping instead of jumping over it. Qrow, having already chambered the kick that would have knocked her out of the air, was caught off guard. His knee barely blocked her foot’s attempt to catch him between the legs, his own fist slamming into her chest with enough force to make her wince.

‘Cheap shot.’

‘I learned from the best.’ Qrow grunted. Harbinger shifted in his hands, the blade’s edge grating along her aura.

‘You’re admitting I’m the best now?’

‘Maybe you would be. If you weren’t busy slaughtering peasants.’

‘Fuck off, Qrow.’ She disengaged, pacing to the right as she stared him down. ‘I’m here for my daughter.’

‘I know, that’s why I’m here.’ Qrow matched her pace. ‘You had fourteen years before this to be there for her. It’s a bit late to start now.’

‘I needed to wait until she was strong. Given how you and Tai coddled her, that took some time.’

‘Well, I’m glad to know that the lack of physical and verbal abuse in Ruby’s life hasn’t toughened her up to your liking.’

Raven’s hand tensed around Omen’s hilt. He’d always been like this. Deflecting. Delaying. Using trickery and deception to rile up his opponents instead of using his own strength. She’d borrowed those ideas when it suited her, she had to admit. No shame in conceding that he was a better cheat than she.

‘It’s high time she and I had a chat. I thought it would be better if we did it away from Ozpin’s prying eyes.’

‘And you’re not getting anywhere near her,’ Qrow said. She was closer to the cabin now than he was. She didn’t let it fool her that she could get there before him.

‘And here I thought that Vale encouraged mothers and fathers to spend time with their children?’ Raven tapped her chin thoughtfully. ‘Are you really as tame as you pretend?’

Qrow’s lip curled, taking a pace toward her. ‘You want to invoke Vale’s customs, you can invoke the one about abandonment and estrangement. Maybe you should hire a lawyer?’

‘Or maybe I should just kick some of the attitude out of you and go see her by myself?’

‘You really think you’ll be able to just take me down as easily as that?’

She didn’t. There was the problem. A no-holds barred match between her and Qrow would end in her victory, she had no doubt. It was winning cleanly that concerned her. Fat lot of good it would do to beat Qrow, only to have Tai find her at the point of exhaustion. That was why…

‘That goes double for the one you’ve got hiding back there.’ Qrow jerked a thumb over his shoulder. ‘He’s not nearly as quiet as he thinks he is.’

…irritating. ‘Adam. Show yourself.’

Her student stepped out of the forest tangle, a scowl on his lips as he paced back toward her. Angry he may have been, but Adam still gave Qrow a wide berth. Qrow stared after him with faint amusement.

‘You’re really ramping up the indoctrination, huh? What, did you make mother-son masks at the crafting day?’

Wilt came halfway out of the sheath as Adam took a pace toward Qrow. ‘Insolent bastard!’

‘Don’t try it on with me, kid, I’ve seen scarier things than you in a Mistral seafood restaurant.’ Qrow scanned her student head to toe. ‘When did you take this one in, Rae? About the age we were? Maybe a bit older? Guess it’s easier when you can just start the grooming without needing to change the diapers.’

Raven pulled Adam back behind her as he growled again. Now was not the time to be testing her student against a huntsman of Qrow’s strength. Adam was strong, but she doubted he’d be a match for a Beacon fourth year, let alone a veteran of two decades.

‘You can’t keep me from seeing her forever, Qrow.’

‘I think we’ve got a pretty good chance.’ Qrow held up a finger. ‘There’s me. Then Tai. Then Zwei. Then that mouse Ruby called _Drei_ that a hawk may or may not have gotten. Whole lot of us standing between Ruby and you. That’s where they’ll stay until Ruby can make the choice herself.’

‘Or until she dies for your lost cause. Like almost just happened.’

‘Check your sources. Ruby’s upset because she killed someone, not because she almost died.’

Raven snorted. Typical Vale rot. ‘That’s even worse. By the time I was her age I had already killed six men.’

‘And what a delightful childhood you and I had.’ Qrow leaned to the side. ‘Hey kid, they still doing the _get tough or die_ thing back at the tribe? That was a lot of fun if I remember it right. Just take beating after beating and hope it’ll make you stronger. Great training methodology.’

‘Why don’t you leave my apprentice out of this?’

‘Why?’ Qrow’s grin widened to sickening proportions. ‘You worried that he might realise it’s not normal to walk around with a limp after friendly spar? Bold of you to bring him at all, really. Remember how shocked we both were when we got to Beacon and realised that adults _didn’t_ have to beat on kids to toughen them up?’

‘You were weak!’ Adam stepped out from behind her, his shoulders tensed and jaw set as he glared at Qrow. ‘Turning your back on the tribe for a soft life in the city.’

‘Yeah? Well Mommy turned her back on it too, kid.’ Qrow stuck Harbinger’s edge into the dirt, leaning on the hilt with casual disregard for the blade in Raven’s hand. ‘Slept in a soft bed, watched romance dramas with her bestie. And don’t get me started on how beautiful she looked in that wedding dress. Started crying I’m pretty sure. Maybe that was just the baby hormones?’

‘Qrow…’

‘And then she just…up and abandoned us all.’ Qrow flipped Harbinger back onto her shoulder. ‘A four year old, a two year old, her husband and me. All her friends. All her family. Tell me kid, you sure she cares more about you than she did about us?’

‘Enough.’

Raven’s word was enough to bring Adam’s sword from its sheathe, her student settling into a combat stance to her left. Qrow didn’t seem at all worried. His cockiness had overwhelmed his better sense, it seemed. At least, that was what she thought until she heard the branches cracking behind her.

‘Raven, my dear! How wonderful to see you again!’ A deep voice boomed in the clearing. ‘Tell me, did you ever develop a good counter to area of effect weaponry?’

Raven looked over her shoulder and into the muzzle of a blunderbuss. ‘Port. You’ve lost weight.’

He had also grown a fairly impressive beard. He beamed at her over the sights of his weapon. ‘Inevitable when one starts traipsing around the wilderness with your brother. He does lead me into some stressful situations.’

‘Go, Raven.’ Qrow jerked his head toward the coast. ‘Run on back to Mistral. I’m sure there’s some innocent villagers that need terrorising.’

‘We can take them,’ Adam hissed. ‘I’ll get the fat one.’

Port chortled. ‘Ha. Young scamp.’

Adam might have charged him then and there. Raven’s arm stopped him. Her eyes roved between them, her two opponents and her student. ‘You can keep coddling her all you like, Qrow. You know as well as I do that something is coming. Ozpin’s peace is crumbling and he isn’t doing anything to stop it. He will fail and Beacon will fall.’

That wiped the smile off his face. Port’s as well. Both men glanced at each other, Qrow shaking his head a little at the query on Port’s face. They weren’t willing to initiate a fight. She’d thought as much.

‘Well, Ruby’s not at Beacon now, so I guess you have no reason to be here.’

‘But Yang is, isn’t she?’ Raven smirked at his flinch. ‘Do you think Ozpin will be quite as willing to let Summer’s child out of his grasp? Her and those useful silver eyes…’

‘She was your child too.’ His voice came out as an angry rasp. ‘She loved you, Rae…’

‘And because of that I’m giving you this warning to pass onto her.’ Raven pointed back toward the cabin. ‘Tell her to follow Ruby’s example while there’s still time.’

‘I’ll take that under advisement.’

‘Then I’ve done all I can.’ Raven closed her eyes, reaching out until she could feel Vernal’s essence a thousand miles away. ‘If you choose not to warn her, then Yang’s blood will be on your hands, not mine. As will Ruby’s.’

The portal sprang to life with a flick of her sword. She nodded to Adam. ‘Let’s go.’

‘Hey kid? When she abandons you too, you should come find me.’ Qrow called out. ‘That’s her specialty. Getting people to love her and then letting them down.’

Adam stormed past her, teeth clenched together as he leapt through the portal. Raven ignored Qrow’s taunt, taking a few moments to appreciate the sun on her skin. In Central Mistral it was the wet season, she’d be soaked to the bone with rain or sweat either way.

‘I forgot how nice the weather on Patch was,’ she mused. ‘So many spring holidays…good times.’

‘Good times,’ Qrow agreed.

‘Good times create weakness, Qrow. And weakness creates hard times. _You_ should come find _me_ when Ozpin fails you and the girls. That’s _his_ specialty. Getting young women killed before their time.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, that was Raven trying to sneak into Ruby's room in her first scene. It was Ruby who misidentified it as a crow. Ornithology is not this girl's strong suit.


	13. 'the girl who sought advice'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In no mood for his cryptic counsel, Yang makes a demand of Ozpin but finds pinning down the slippery headmaster to be a harder task than anticipated. Recovering slowly from her wounds, Blake once more hits the streets with Roman. With lies and resentment building, something has to give.

_It had begun innocently enough, with Dad and Yang wrestling. They did that quite often, mostly with Yang launching a surprise attack from an unexpected direction. From under the bed, out of the bath, from the too-high cupboards in the kitchen, Ruby’s big sister was a master of the ambush and the underhanded offensive. Ruby helped when she could, mostly by acting as a distraction/live bait._

_With Uncle Qrow paying one of his rare visits, Yang had taken advantage of Dad’s inevitable hangover to plan the sneakiest sneak assault in the history of Patch._

_From her hiding place, Yang nodded._

_‘Now, Ruby!’_

_‘Daddy!’ Ruby wailed. ‘I hurt my knee!’_

_There was the sound of panicked scuffling from Dad’s bedroom, then bare feet slamming on the stairs. The front door of the house flew open and Dad charged out dressed only in his pyjamas._

_‘Ruby!’ He gasped. ‘Where…?’_

_‘Sneak attack!’ Yang screamed as she plummeted from the roof._

_Dad’s eyes widened a moment before a golden thunderbolt in the form of a ten year old girl slammed into his back. Ruby would have leapt to aid her sister, were she not certain that Yang most definitely had this one in the bag. Not at all because she was afraid of retaliatory tickles. No sir. She was one hundred percent supportive of Yang’s chances of winning._

_‘So!’ Dad’s muffled voice emanated from the mud. ‘It seems that both my daughters have turned against me. Such disrespectful children…’_

_Yang squealed as she was flung up into the air. Dad caught her by the scruff of her neck, his golden beard now stained with mud as he grimly examined his wayward offspring._

_‘I shall begin with you, my silver-eyed dragon. Long have you defied your father’s wishes to show him respect. And to clean your room. Today I shall show you the error of your ways!’_

_Despite the inevitability of her own fate, Ruby could only slump over in a fit of giggles as Dad pinned Yang down and proceeded to tickle his attacker into squealing hysterics. A groan behind her let her know to shift over to the right._

_‘You kids should know to show respect for the elderly.’ Uncle Qrow flopped down on the doorstep next to her, a steaming mug in his hand as he examined the scene in front of him. He was still in his travelling clothes, the same ones Ruby had seen him wearing as he slept in the living room._

_‘But you’re always telling us we should strike while our enemy is weakest?’_

_‘Heh, can’t argue with that,’ her uncle chuckled. ‘Geez…if I’d ever attacked my dad like that I’d have copped a lot worse than a tickling…’_

_The words made Ruby crease her brow. ‘But Dad said he used to ambush Grandpa all the time?’_

_‘Huh? Yeah, I’m sure he did. But mine…’_

_‘But shouldn’t you have the same Dad?’_

_Uncle Qrow’s frown deepened. ‘Huh? Why would we? We’re not brothers.’_

_‘But…what about my eyes?’_

_The laughter stopped. Ruby felt Dad’s eyes on her as he slowly got back to his feet. Qrow slowly turned his head to the right, until he and Dad were silently glaring at each other._

_‘You still haven’t told her?’ Qrow’s red eyes, eyes that were a mirror for her own, narrowed to slits. ‘Come on, Tai...’_

_Ruby was taken aback by the venom. ‘Told me what?’_

_‘It’s still not time,’ Dad warned. ‘She’s only eight, Qrow!’_

_‘She has a right to know!’_

_‘I’m her father!’_

_‘That doesn’t…’_

_‘Tell me what?’ Ruby shrieked. She clapped a hand over her mouth a moment later, half-stunned by her own tantrum. Yet it had the desired effect. Dad and Uncle Qrow stopped talking over each other and looked at her with shamed faces._

_‘Ruby…’ Dad reached out. ‘Let’s have a talk about your eyes. And your mother.’_

\------------------------------

Professor Ozpin’s office wasn’t what Yang had expected. Not that the professor was exactly conventional in his style, but she had at least anticipated a carpet, some bookshelves, perhaps a coffee machine.

Instead she was given a close up view of one man’s appreciation for mechanical timepieces.

‘Miss Xiao-Long.’ The headmaster stood to welcome her as she entered. ‘A pleasure to see you, though I wish the circumstances were less serious. May I offer you some refreshment?’

‘Ah, thank you, professor, but no.’ Yang came to a halt in front of his desk, standing awkwardly until he gestured to a chair. ‘I don’t really drink coffee.’

Ozpin swirled his mug and a gentle fragrance reached Yang’s nose. ‘This isn’t coffee.’

Yang wondered what it was with Beacon’s professors and hot chocolate. Peach, Ozpin, at least half a dozen other professors all drank the stuff by the gallon. Only Doctor Oobleck seemed content with ordinary coffee. Although judging by his behaviour…

‘Peach and Barty have both sent me their signed recommendations following your request,’ Ozpin said. The two letters sat in front him, Peach’s scratchy handwriting and Doctor Oobleck’s more mechanical script. ‘They state that you wish to move from Team BYRN to Team JSPR following your sister’s departure from Beacon. You cite irreconcilable differences with your team leader creating a toxic group dynamic. Is that correct?’

Yang shrugged. ‘It’s a more flowery way of saying that I can’t trust her, but yes. I don’t want to be on Bella’s team anymore.’

Ozpin pursed his lips, chin resting on his propped up hands as he peered over the top of his glasses. ‘I must admit, it is not usually my way to grant requests like this. Save for cases where physical or psychological bullying of a team member is occurring, I prefer to let team issues sort themselves out over time.’

‘With respect, Professor, but I don’t think these issues can be resolved.’

‘And with equal respect, Miss Xiao-Long, but I have seen worse teams become better with enough time and maturity.’ Ozpin’s voice was light, but the humour had faded from it. Not stern, but serious. ‘I do not take lightly the issues you have with Miss Ebony. I believe her behaviour has been reproachable and her actions as team leader have been lacking. To that end, I am prepared to modify my usual stance…’

‘Thank you, professor.’

‘…and appoint you as team leader in her place.’

‘What? No, I don’t want to be team leader.’ Yang flushed at the implication. ‘I’m not trying to depose or undermine her, I just don’t want to deal with her anymore.’

‘Forgive me, but is leaving her team not undermining her? Is it not leaving her shorthanded and without a valuable close range fighter? Does it not cripple your team’s chances of entering the Vytal Tournament?’

‘We wouldn’t make it anyway with the team how it is.’

‘And do you think what remains of Team JSPR would be any better off for your presence? Perhaps the problem with BYRN was not Bella, but yourself?’

Yang was lost for words, spluttering furiously at the accusation. ‘Me? I’m not the one running off like a stray dog every ten minutes! Maybe if you let us pick our partners and teams based on who we liked and worked well with then things would be better!’

Ozpin raised an single eyebrow. Yang flinched as she realised how loud her voice had raised. ‘I’m….I’m sorry, professor, I shouldn’t have yelled.’

‘I do not blame you for that.’ Ozpin chuckled lightly. ‘Nor do I blame you for doubting me. General Ironwood has a simple philosophy on such things. That a soldier does not get to choose who stands at their side. Who goes into battle with them and why. To that end he usually breaks up the teams at the end of each year, redistributing the students in order to teach them how to work with many different skillsets. Many different personalities. Atlas huntsmen are highly adaptable in that regard. It gives them flexibility, but I believe they lack the true power of a tightly knit team. Four years can forge strong partnerships. The bonds of such teams can last a lifetime.’

‘I’ve tried.’ Yang bit her lip, suddenly ashamed of the childish pique in her voice. ‘Forgive me, but I really have. Every time I give her the benefit of the doubt, and every time she finds a new way to let me down. I’d like to help her. I _want_ to help her. But how do you help someone that won’t be helped?’

‘Are you asking me rhetorically or do you genuinely wish for advice on the subject?’

‘I…’

‘Take a minute to think before you answer, please.’ Ozpin watched her carefully from behind the rim of his mug, his face inscrutable. ‘I do not wish to waste your time with an unwanted lecture.’

‘Will it change your decision if I hear it?’

‘More than likely not. It is a short lecture, however.’

‘Then how?’

‘Generally, you can’t.’ Ozpin took another sip.

Yang waited for him to continue. He stared back.

‘Is that it?’

‘That’s it. If someone is actively rejecting your help then there’s not very much you can do about it.’

‘So I can’t help Bella?’

‘I didn’t say that.’

‘Yes you did.’

‘No, you said that. I said that you can’t help someone that doesn’t want help.’

Yang continued to stare at the headmaster. He had to be messing with her. _Surely_ he was messing with her. On the other hand, if he wasn’t…

‘Are you saying she _does_ want help?’

‘I don’t know. Does she? I haven’t observed her behaviour closely, I freely confess. Nevertheless…’

‘There is no nevertheless,’ Yang said. ‘She’s needlessly hostile to Weiss. She provokes arguments with everyone…’

‘Heinous crimes,’ Ozpin said drily. ‘But not necessarily worthy of condemnation.’

‘But she’s impossible!’ Yang exploded. After weeks of bottling it up, letting it out only in trickles, she could none of it back. ‘She sneaks out. She disappears. She never responds to any of our messages. She takes no responsibility for being team leader!’

‘And this renders her beyond all possible assistance?’

‘Beyond everything I’ve tried to give, yes!’

‘Hmm…and you have tried to talk with her?’

‘I ask her every day what her problems are.’

‘Not quite the answer I was looking for.’ Ozpin folded his hands before his chin. ‘I do not necessarily mean interrogating her or lecturing…’

‘I don’t…’

‘…rather I mean a simple talk. One with nothing at stake. One where she doesn’t need to unburden her soul to you. In fact…since your problems began has there ever been a moment where you simply had a chat?’

Yang was silent. Partly to search her memory, partly out of sudden embarrassment that there was very little to search.

‘I do not mean to belittle you,’ Ozpin said. ‘But it is rare that someone will reveal deep secrets without at least some measure of trust established.’

‘But she _should_ trust me,’ Yang said. ‘I’m on her side!’

‘Might I remind you, Miss Xiao-Long, that Miss Ebony is a young woman of just seventeen years like you? You’re expecting a lot of maturity out of her that you don’t, I’m afraid, quite display yourself.’

She gritted her teeth. ‘That’s not fair.’

‘Isn’t it?’ The kind note in Ozpin’s voice hadn’t faded, but his eyes were sharper than before. ‘You are asking her to trust you with her secrets. Secrets that might be of a deeply personal nature, ones that she cannot reveal to you just because you ask nicely. How many of your secrets does she know?’

‘I don’t have any secrets.’

Ozpin raised an eyebrow. Yang flushed as she reconsidered her words. ‘My secrets aren’t affecting the team!’

Ozpin hummed noncommittedly. ‘Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow. We shall see. Regardless, I find your reasoning for this transfer…unconvincing. You’ve stated you can’t work together, but your combat scores as a team are excellent. You’ve stated you can’t live together, but by your own account she is barely around to live with you. This, by itself, is not a convincing reason to have you change teams.’

‘Then what would be?’

‘You looking me in the eye and telling me that you no longer wish to work with her.’

Yang blinked, her lips twitching as she fought to keep from gasping at his casual tone. ‘That’s it?’

‘I’m hardly in the habit of keeping dysfunctional teams together. Someone might get killed.’

‘Alright,’ Yang steadied herself. ‘I don’t wish to work with Bella anymore. I wish to transfer to Team JSPR.’

Ozpin held her gaze for a few moments longer, a deep frown settling onto his brown. At last he shook his head and began to tap away at his computer, flicking through the files with a displeased sigh. When he finally looked up his eyes were once more unreadable.

‘I have given your sister two weeks to reconsider her decision to drop out of Beacon. That expires next Monday. She has until then to return to her team. If not, you will be free to transfer to JSPR. Agreed?’

‘Agreed.’ Yang gave a sharp nod. She tried to ignore the sharp pang at the reminder of Ruby’s absence. ‘Will that be all, sir?’

‘Almost all.’ Ozpin’s composure had returned, the old man settling against his chair with quiet hiss of expelled air. ‘May I offer you a few last words before you go?’

‘If you like.’

‘As I have said, my observation of Miss Ebony has not been close. And yet, I believe there is something in her which many do not appreciate, particularly you. She, like you, is attempting to forge herself into someone capable of changing the world. That is a long and difficult road to travel. You may find yourself one day in a similar situation. One where your choices will cause only grief.’

Yang stood, smoothing down her white cloak as it trailed behind her. ‘Are you telling me not to give up on her, Professor?’

‘No, my dear.’ Ozpin stood to walk her out. ‘But I do remember another young woman who walked into my office complaining about her teammate being a lazy sod who had never worked a hard day in his life.’

‘Professor, if you’re about to tell me a cute story about my mother and father and how you convinced them…’

‘Your father? No, your mother was complaining quite loudly about Qrow. Your uncle was…difficult. A childhood amongst bandits left him ill-prepared for what most people would understand as a civilised life.’

Somehow that didn’t surprise Yang in the slightest.

Ozpin pressed the button for the elevator. ‘But you’re wrong on one thing. I didn’t convince Summer of anything. She didn’t come to me to ask for a team change. She asked me for advice on how to deal with him.’

Yang entered the elevator, biting back her questions. The door didn’t close. Ozpin continued to wait by the doors, the tiny smile on his face indicating that he knew she would break, it was just a matter of waiting.

‘Alright,’ Yang said finally. ‘What did you say?’

Ozpin gave a shrug as the doors shut. ‘That if she wanted easy solutions, she probably should not have become a huntress.’

\-------------------------------

The security was embarrassingly second rate. At any other time, Blake would have considered dealing with them to be beneath her. Now, however? It was a surprising boost to her ego to bowl through them in a streak of white.

At least with these ones she could pretend nothing had changed.

A stun baton was swung at her head. Blake leaned out of the way with a spin that might have felt lazy a few weeks ago, but now caused her to grit her teeth against the vertigo. Her return strike to the man’s kidney was perhaps slightly more vicious than was needed. The kick to his jaw was just unkind.

She enjoyed every moment of it.

The initial treatment had stitched her wounds back together. Since then, a black market doctor had been seeing her every night just before they pulled a job. The diagnosis hadn’t improved her mood.

The scythe had cut to the bone on her right shoulder. Damage to her right pectoral and to her abdominals. The blade had missed her hipbone by the slimmest of margins. Worse than the news she could expect lingering stiffness and pain for the next six weeks was the unspoken truth that she might never regain full mobility. Not to the extent she’d once had.

On a logical level, Blake knew she’d gotten luckier than anyone could possibly expect to survive the injury. On an emotional level she really needed to hit something. And the Vale arm of the SDC Security Division was as acceptable a target as she could hope for. Even fighting left handed and without much of her previous acrobatics, Blake could afford to toy with them.

She couldn’t fathom why Jacques Schnee didn’t hire some better fighters with all that money.

‘Are you done yet?’ Roman called from the dust crates.

‘Just a minute.’ Blake experimented with quick sidestep, then a roll. There was a twinge in her chest, but not the gripping pain that had been there on the last job. Sweeping her target’s legs from beneath him, she allowed his own momentum to knock him out.

Roman had already dealt with his share of the guards. A prancing fop he might have been, but he was a fop that could fight. At the moment, better than she could. It was galling, but for the moment it was all she could do not to grimace at the uncontrollable twitch that the last movement had set off in her shoulder.

‘Be quick about it, would you?’ Roman pried open one of the boxes, peering inside at the stacked cases of dust ammunition. ‘Don’t want to run the risk of any more teenagers with scythes showing up, do we?’

Blake gritted her teeth. The last guard came at her with a baton in one hand and a combat knife in the other. She freed the swordstick from the rest of the cane, countering blade on blade and stick on baton. The guard tried to hook her leg. A textbook move, and therefore easy to predict. In all honesty, some of the more amateur guards were a bigger threat. They, at least, might fight in a way that surprised her. However, someone who had an elementary grounding in combat would use basic techniques in a basic manner.

Blake was far beyond the basics.

She tried not to take too much satisfaction in the crunch as the woman hit the floor.

Roman was turning a fire-dust round in his fingers as she made her way over to him, tapping the cartridge and inspecting it for deformities. The faint smile on his face as he tossed her the ammunition might have almost been real.

‘I know you people don’t like the SDC, but you have to admit they make some beautiful bullets.’

‘Of course.’ Blake examined the firing pin on the case. ‘They’re made by faunus labourers.’

‘Says here they were made in Atlas.’

‘Exactly my point.’

He laughed at that, a surprisingly honest sound rather than his usual tittering. ‘Well, I’m sure your shooters will appreciate the irony. The White Fang and the Atlas Expeditionary Force going at each other with the same guns and the same bullets.’

‘They’ll still have more of both.’

‘Well, maybe tonight will even it out a little bit.’ Roman’s tone was surprisingly conciliatory compared to the usual needling. ‘There must be enough rounds in here to arm a battalion.’

‘And if the White Fang had a battalion to arm then we’d be rejoicing.’ She couldn’t stop the bitterness in her voice. Even accounting for the new recruits surging into the White Fang from Vale, Vacuo and Menagerie, the AEF still had them three to one.

‘Baby steps,’ Roman said. ‘Every little bit helps.’

Blake chose not to answer. The sour mood swept over her in a flood, erasing any remaining cheer from the fight or the thrill of success. Gleaming crates of premium SDC dust were stacked in front of. Dust that, even with Cinder’s hefty cut, would put to shame any raid that Blake had ever led. Right here, in this warehouse, was enough dust to fight _two_ wars against Atlas.

And to power the hospitals on Menagerie. And to run the farming equipment in the Disputed Zone. Dust that could pay for extra huntsmen to cull more Grimm and open up more farmland.

Somehow, she doubted any of it would make it that far. Every resource the faunus could get was being pushed to the White Fang. Everything depended on them winning. This was a victory.

So why did she feel so empty?

The gloved hand on her shoulder made her jump. Roman arched an eyebrow, but otherwise didn’t react. ‘Trucks are pulling up now. We could hit another depot tonight. It’s your call.’

Blake massaged her shoulder, the muscle aching as the rush of battle wore off. They really should hit another one. Even after a full weekend of robbery, Cinder’s targets were still far short of completion. They were behind schedule and they both knew it.

But she couldn’t rob if she couldn’t fight.

‘I’m not feeling it.’ Blake said. ‘And I’ve got school tomorrow.’

Roman didn’t seem too fussed about it. ‘Works for me. Come on, I’ll give you a lift.’

A tiny convertible was parked in a side street a few blocks away. It wasn’t something Blake would ever have imagined an accomplished gangster driving around the city, but Roman insisted it had its uses. Then again, Roman also insisted he wasn’t a gangster but a ‘gentleman thief’, whatever that meant.

She still didn’t lower the mask from around her mouth and nose until they were well away from the crime scene.

‘Profitable weekend,’ Roman said.

‘Profitable in money? Or profitable that Cinder won’t bully you?’ Blake rested her head against the window, sighing at the cool glass. ‘You seemed pretty worried about that last week.’

‘If by _bully_ you mean I worry that she’ll boil my eyes if I stop being useful? Still very worried about that, thanks for reminding me. But hey, you’re recovering and there was no gangly teenager with a glorified weed-whacker to turn a perfectly civilised robbery into an attempted homicide.’

‘Yeah. She quit.’

The blissful smile on Roman’s face irked her more than it reasonably should have. Fishing a cigar out of his jacket, he nodded toward the streets. ‘And look how much better Vale is for it? No ugly brawls. No risky firefights. Just a couple of rogue huntsmen hitting some rent-a-cops and making off with some heavily insured loot. Crime’s much safer for everyone that way.’

‘I suppose it does make crime easier when the victims don’t fight back,’ Blake said drily.

Roman nodded. ‘Now you’re getting it. Honestly, half the violent crime in this city is just wannabes who think a few years of primary combat training in Signal or Watchtower qualifies them to be a vigilante.’

‘Says the man who fled in the face of a girl from Signal?’

‘Would you prefer I killed that girl in the streets of Vale?’

Blake didn’t trust herself to answer without getting angry. She hadn’t been able to trust her own mood all week. Between dodging Yang and dodging Professor Goodwitch’s attempts to make her spar, Beacon had only gotten more stressful. Her secrecy now depended on nobody seeing the angry red scar on her torso. That meant only showering when absolutely nobody could see her. Which was, in turn, making Yang even more suspicious.

‘I’ve heard they’ve put a bounty on you,’ Roman said. ‘Five thousand lien.’

‘What’s yours?’

‘Thirty thousand.’ The distaste on his face said it all. ‘It was fifteen until a few weeks ago. Steal enough dust and the SDC eventually takes notice. They’re sponsoring it.’

‘That may have something to do with us singing the Schnee heiress at the docks,’ Blake admitted.

‘How badly?’

‘She’s going to be wearing longer skirts for a while.’

‘Great.’ Roman rolled his eyes. ‘So you set off a dust explosion that lightly grills the richest girl on the planet and _I’m_ the one who gets his bounty doubled?’

‘I mean I did set it off to save you.’

‘I had it well under control.’

‘You were surrounded on all sides.’

Roman cocked a ginger eyebrow at her. ‘Kid, I’m a hardened career criminal with over a decade of armed robberies under my belt.’

‘Then why were you losing?’

‘…so maybe I’m a little out of practice?’ Roman shrugged it off. ‘Point being, you might have saved me, but you trashed my reputation. I used to be the most loved criminal in Vale and now I’m just another rogue huntsman. How my mother would weep if she were still around.’

The note of genuine grief in his voice caught Blake off guard. ‘Oh…I’m sorry. When did she pass?’

‘Huh? She’s not dead. She’s currently enjoying her retirement at a beach resort on the north coast of Vacuo. Me and Neo go see her every few months. Well, used to at any rate.’

The whiplash of emotion must have shown in her scowl. Roman laughed whilst she fumed, winding down the window so he could light up his cigar. Despite his insults, there was one thing that stuck out for her.

‘So…you were a huntsman then?’

‘Don’t ask.’ He took a deep puff and gave a contented sigh.

‘Why, afraid your past will be too dark and tragic for my delicate ears?’

‘Which set?’

‘Screw you.’

‘Yeah, you and half the desperate housewives in this town.’

‘But you did attend Beacon?’

Their eyes travelled up to the emerald tower, Roman’s narrowing in faint distaste. There was a sudden set to his shoulders that hadn’t been there before, a tightness to his whole body and a nervous energy in the rap of his fingers against the steering wheel.

‘Oh yeah, I attended. Graduated fifth in my class. Good times. Got to the quarter finals of the Vytal Festival. But it was to Winter Schnee, so…’

‘Do you know any huntresses from Atlas?’

She’d tried not to let the urgency in her voice show. The sudden grin on his face indicated her failure in that regard.

‘Oh? You looking for any particular huntress from Atlas? They got all kinds of huntresses up there. Tall huntresses. Short huntresses. Can’t guarantee they’d be interested in you, but if you’re open minded enough then…’

‘She fights with a bow.’ Blake cut him off. ‘She was young. Early twenties maybe. But that was five years ago.’

‘How do you know she was from Atlas?’

‘She had the accent. The same one all of them do. Like they can’t help but sneer at you for being beneath them.’

His laughter was genuine again. She didn’t know if that was good or bad. ‘Well, I don’t think I know any Atlas huntresses that fight with bows, but I’ll keep an eye open. Why do you want to find her, anyway?’

_To drive my sword right through her heart. To watch her eyes go dull. To hear her struggle to breathe. To mail her head to Jacques Schnee._

‘Unfinished business,’ she said aloud.

Roman eyed her curiously for a few moments longer, then gave a half-hearted shrug. ‘Well, it’s not my affair. Tell you what, I’ll punch an ear out to some of my friends in Atlas.’

Blake’s guard was back up in an instant. ‘What will it cost me?’

‘It’s a free favour. Us rogue huntsmen have to stick together.’

‘I’m not a rogue huntress,’ she corrected him. ‘I’m a freedom fighter.’

There was that strange look of sympathy in his eyes again. ‘You’re a lot of things, kid, but you ain’t free.’

\---------------------------------

She showered at the gym again, the steaming spray quickly rinsing off the sweat she’d worked up during the robbery. The skirt and blouse she’d changed into bore a faint smell of alcohol and perfume. Neo had apparently flitted through a few clubs with Blake’s face. Enough to be seen. Enough for a proper alibi to be established.

Roman had been very insistent about alibis. About her own in particular. Probably another one of Cinder’s conditions.

Cinder. Weeks now, and Blake was still no closer to puzzling the woman out. It was easy to see why Sienna had agreed to loan Blake to her as muscle. Dust was the lifeblood of the revolution. They’d always known that. Whatever they needed to do get it would never be too much.

The White Fang was getting a lot out of the woman in red. But it was impossible to see what she was getting back. Taking a cut of the dust, sure. But there had to be more. Dust could be sold for lien. It could be traded for weapons. It could, with the right application, treat diseases just as easily as it powered traffic lights.

But Cinder didn’t need to pose as a huntress student to do any of that. She didn’t need to pose as a student at all. She was old enough to pose as a full huntress, it wasn’t like the licenses were hard to get.

Why did a woman with enough power to coerce Roman Torchwick, strike bargains with Sienna Khan and infiltrate one of the most secure facilities on Remnant want to sit in a classroom and listen to Oobleck ramble about ancient history?

Roman wanted money and his life. Sienna wanted dust and freedom. Cinder’s wants and desires were unknown. Every day that was making her more nervous. What you didn’t understand inevitably got you killed.

Dad had taught her that.

_Speaking of things that were hard to understand…_

She swiped into her room, quietly glancing around in expectation of the snap ambush. To her relief, Yang was absent. To her horror, Nora and Ren were both present.

‘Nothing was happening,’ Nora yelped. The flush in her cheeks and the three undone buttons on her blouse indicated that something had been happening, but Blake just rolled her eyes. Ren didn’t look too bothered. Then again, he never looked too bothered by anything. If he wasn’t upset by her and Yang fighting, why would he be upset about being caught with his lips locked against Nora’s?

It was almost familiar. More than she liked to think about. Private space was always in short supply in a White Fang encampment. She and Ilia had turned red (literally in Ilia’s case) the first few times they’d found Trifa and Yuma enjoying some alone time in their tent. Out of everything she’d had to ditch to survive this long, a sense of modesty hadn’t been a priority.

‘Where’s Yang?’

‘Still not back.’

Somehow that didn’t surprise Blake in the slightest. Ever since moving out of BYRN dorm Yang had made it clear that she would have to be dragged back kicking and screaming. That would be one less thing to worry about. If Nora and Ren thought she had her secrets, they at least didn’t care enough to pry into them.

Blake didn’t want to have to justify herself again. She just wanted to sleep.

‘Are you going to be out again next weekend?’ Ren enquired politely.

‘Probably.’ Cinder would want more dust. At least another ten tons, and that was _if_ she was satisfied with this weekend’s haul. ‘Why?’

‘Bunch of us are taking a trip out to Patch, thought you might like to come.’

‘I’ll probably be busy.’ She’d heard Patch was nice. And a break would be nice. A weekend where she didn’t have to kick in doors. That sounded lovely. But no one in the Disputed Zone was getting a break.

‘I think you should come,’ Ren said.

‘I don’t need to lie on a beach, thanks.’ Blake didn’t think she had any swimsuits that would cover up her scar anyway.

‘We’re not going to lie on a beach,’ Ren said. ‘We’re going to get Ruby back.’

Blake’s head shot up, ears pricking up under her beanie despite her best efforts. ‘Get her back? Like…picking her up? She’s coming back?’

Nora gave Ren a nervous glance. He looked embarrassed for a brief moment. ‘Well…not just yet. We’re going to convince her.’

Blake’s eyes narrowed. ‘So you’re going to take a group and ambush her, then? Let me guess, Yang’s idea and she got you to deliver it to me?’

Nora coughed. ‘Pretty much.’

 _Coward_. But a clever coward. If Yang had asked her to her face, Blake would have just told her no. ‘I think Yang should respect her sister’s choices. Maybe it’s better that Ruby doesn’t come back.’

 _Especially with things how they are_.

Nora gasped as if Blake had said something horrific. ‘Bella!’

‘What?’ Must she coddle _everyone’s_ feelings? ‘It’s not like I’m the only one thinking it. She’s still only fifteen. Don’t any of you think that maybe the headmaster made a mistake? That maybe she was _too young_ for this?’

Ren started to speak, then hesitated. ‘I…’

‘It’s okay, Ren.’ A quiet voice said from behind her. ‘I’ll take it from here.’

Blake slapped a hand against her face. This was the last thing she needed. ‘Yang, I…’

‘I’m sorry.’ Yang said.

Blake paused. ‘What?’

‘I’m sorry,’ Yang said again. ‘For blaming you for the docks. It was wrong of me. You weren’t to blame. I was angry.’

‘Can you be sorry for intruding on my privacy as well?’

For a second Blake wondered if she’d gone too far. Yang’s face tightened with unmistakeable anger and Blake’s hand twitched toward her weapon.

‘For that as well.’

This time it was Nora whose face froze in shock. Yang sank on the edge of the desk, her head falling into her hands. For a moment she looked nothing like the bubbly girl who seemed to brighten every room she was in with a twirl of her golden hair and a flash of her silver eyes. She looked tired. Almost as tired as Blake felt.

‘I’ve called and I’ve written, but Ruby won’t answer me,’ Yang said dully. ‘Dad’s trying, he really is. But Ruby’s not…she’s not talking to anyone. It’s not that she’s making this decision after thinking about it, I’d respect that. She’s making it because she’s hurting. My sister is hurting and I don’t…I don’t know what to do.’

Blake slowly sank onto her own bed. ‘And you think I can help?’

‘I’m hoping we all can.’ Yang nodded back to JSPR’s room. ‘Everyone wants to come. Weiss got all of JSPR on board. Sun’s bringing Snowcap. I convinced Nora and Ren…’

‘And I’m the last one left?’

‘Outside of her team, you’re the one she’s closest to.’ Nora spoke the words quietly, as if she was afraid that the wrong one would send Blake storming back out into the town. ‘I like her, and so does Ren, but you’re the only of us she really talks with.’

A whole weekend gone if she agreed. Less dust for Cinder. Meaning less dust for Sienna. Less dust for the fighters. All for a girl she’d had maybe two or three conversations with. She should say no. She _needed_ to say no.

‘I’ll come,’ Blake said.

She regretted it immediately. It was a fool’s errand, chasing after someone who didn’t want to come back. Ruby would say no and they _all_ would have wasted their time. They would slink back here defeated, and she would have wasted valuable time that should have been devoted to her people.

She would have retracted it. But they were smiling. All of her team. The team she was meant to be in charge of was smiling at her for the first time. Nora beamed from ear to ear, Yang smiled with quiet relief, Ren’s lips didn’t move much but his eyes shone. Had she made them happy just by saying yes?

Blake had known from the very start that it didn’t matter a single bit to her whether her team liked her or not. She was there for a purpose and it wasn’t them. They didn’t matter.

But now she looked at their smiles. And they did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case I was being too cryptic with the chapter title, the 'girl who sought advice' was Summer Rose, not Yang or Bella.


	14. 'the girl who lied'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ruby makes plans for her future and Taiyang gets in touch with an old acquaintance. Radical solutions are considered as fighting drags on between the White Fang and the Atlas military. Blake believes Yang is lying to herself, but does it take a liar to know one?

Once, when she was small, one of the older girls at Hearth Primary had sneered that Ruby had been adopted. After Dad had arrived to comfort one crying daughter, and bail out the daughter who had just knocked said older girl’s teeth out, he had been very clear on a few things.

First, that Ruby hadn’t been adopted, but even if she had been she would still be every last bit his precious girl. Second, that whilst Yang’s actions were understandable, violence should still be a method of last resort. Third, that they were both getting a veritable mountain of ice cream on the way home.

Even then, stuffed full of chocolate chip ice cream and firmly wedged in between Dad and Yang on the couch watching her favourite show, Ruby had still smarted at the words. She didn’t have the golden hair. She didn’t have eyes of crystal blue or shining silver. She wasn’t broad. She was just slender, with dark hair and freakish red eyes (Yang had left the bully with two black ones for that comment).

Ruby had comforted herself afterwards with the knowledge that they were wrong. That she was very much her father’s daughter.

Then she’d learned the truth and part of her had wished that she _had_ been adopted. Surely that’d be better? At least if she’d been adopted, her mother might have remained a mystery.

It was a regret. One of many. But she was trying to move past that. She wasn’t going to linger on past decisions. She’d move on. She’d be better.

‘Weapons design.’ Ruby pushed her scroll over the table. Dad stared down at it, brow creasing as he read through some of the information on the e-pamphlet. ‘Atlas offers a four year apprenticeship, sponsored by the military and the SDC.’

‘Hmm,’ Dad thumbed over the screen, tapping his chin as he chewed his toast. ‘They say it’s an eight year return of service obligation?’

‘Yes, but I have the choice of where I work during that time.’ Ruby pointed at the relevant paragraph. ‘Between the SDC and the Atlas Defence Force’s outposts, I’d be able to travel all four kingdoms. It’s still a chance for me to help people.’

Dad nodded slowly. ‘Perhaps you could do more good like this. Atlas sells weapons to every kingdom. I’m pretty sure the guns protecting Patch are Atlas tech.’

‘The chance to work with world renowned scientists…’ Ruby thumbed through the remainder of the pamphlet. ‘Pietro Polendina, Will Scarlatina, Victoria Shell. Oh, wait, this is an old one. It’s still got Arthur Watts in it.’

‘Who’s he?’

‘Who’s…Dad, he worked on the Paladin Project. He was one of the best engineers in the world!’

‘Ok, ok.’ Dad held up his arms with a grin. ‘Sorry for not knowing the names of every random Atlas scientist out there.’

Ruby stifled the urge to roll her eyes. There was not being terribly involved in the world of scientific endeavour, then there was wilful ignorance. Honestly, everyone always knew about the flashy politicians who were always on broadcast, but never paid any attention to the true geniuses like Doctor Watts.

‘Says here that the minimum age is eighteen,’ Dad noted.

‘That’s where I was hoping you could help,’ Ruby said. ‘You know General Ironwood, right?’

‘When I say know, I really mean more…’

‘Do you think you could get me an internship?’

Dad paused. ‘In Atlas? Darling, that’s all the way up in Solitas. Are you sure you want to…’

‘If I was ready to be a huntress at fifteen, surely I’m ready to help build defence technology?’

Dad paused at that. ‘Well, you’re not technically wrong about that one. I suppose a lab’s safer than a battlefield…’

‘Then you’ll call him?’ Ruby tried not to bounce too much.

‘I’ll…think about it.’ Dad laughed at her pout. ‘Come on, can we have a few days to think about it at least? Enjoy you being home for a little while before you go off to a whole other continent?’

‘Just because I don’t want to be a huntress anymore doesn’t mean I just want to sit around.’ She didn’t miss the shadow that passed over his face at the words. ‘I could be the next Arthur Watts…’

‘The dead scientist?’

‘I could be the next Will Scarlatina?’ Ruby tried not to miss a beat. ‘I know you don’t want me to rush into anything but…’

‘It’s a good choice.’ Dad’s lips quirked at the surprise he must have seen on her face. ‘A very good one. You could design the next generation of kingdom defences. That’s very noble of you, Ruby.’

‘Then you’ll call him?’

‘If he’ll take it,’ Dad warned. ‘There is a war on, after all.’

\---------------------------------

‘It’s not a war,’ General James Ironwood repeated for what felt like the sixth time in as many minutes. ‘This is a peacekeeping operation.’

‘So you say,’ Legislator May grumbled. ‘And yet there is enough ordnance present to fight two of them.’

‘One and a half, at least,’ Legislator Clark chimed in. ‘Honestly, General, if you had more troops here then one would think you were planning to march on Mistral City itself.’

‘I assure you, Legislator, that if I were so inclined then I would not be using this jungle as an assembly area.’ And having what was left of his blood sucked out by mosquitos. ‘Further to that, the lack of a standing army in Mistral means that I could take the capital with a third of the men I have here.’

Winter’s polite cough behind him let him know he was taking the wrong tack. ‘But let’s not dwell on that.’

‘Indeed.’ Legislator Hammer glanced nervously between his colleagues and Ironwood. ‘Might I remind both of you that the General’s troop numbers _and_ the conditions of their presence here were all ratified by the Assembly weeks ago?’

‘That is my point,’ May grumbled again. ‘ _Weeks_ ago. Almost two full months since you mounted this operation, General, and Sienna Khan still eludes your grasp.’

‘We have had setbacks on that front,’ Ironwood conceded. ‘On the other hand, we have apprehended over half of the leadership of the Hidden Valley Brigade, as well as numerous racial agitators operating on the Mistrali side of the zone.’

‘And I don’t need to tell you just how much friction that has caused in the Assembly. Mistral citizens being held by Atlas military?’

‘For trial by the Vytal Court.’ Ironwood reminded him. ‘Gentlemen, if you don’t mind me saying, it seems like you are more upset that I’ve caught more Mistralian criminals than White Fang.’

Ever the peacekeeper, Hammer stepped in again. ‘No one is saying that, General. We’re all grateful for the commitment Atlas has made in stopping the violence in the Disputed Zone.’

‘You could stop it yourself if you honoured the commitments you made to Menagerie ten years ago.’

Clark bristled. ‘That is a political issue, General. I would suggest you stick to soldiering.’

What Ironwood wanted to stick was the pencil in his fingers between the fat man’s eyes. Instead he stuck a smile to his face and nodded politely. ‘Of course. Nevertheless, the mandate the Mistral Assembly granted was to end the violence in the Disputed Zone. The fastest way for me to do so is to ensure no more faunus settlers are driven into the arms of the White Fang.’

‘But without the militia our own people will be vulnerable to White Fang predations!’

Ironwood gave a serious nod. ‘Then I suppose it’s fortunate Atlas is here, then?’

His scroll beeped urgently and never in his life had Ironwood been so thankful. ‘If you’ll excuse me, gentlemen, I have to take this. Winter?’

His adjutant took the cue without missing a beat. ‘If you’ll come with me, Legislators, we have rooms waiting for you.’

Clark and May continued to scowl, but Hammer had the good grace to smile politely. ‘Of course, Major Schnee, if you’d be so kind…’

Ironwood waited until the conference door closed before he picked up the scroll. ‘Tell me you have something?’

 _‘A little more than something.’_ Clover Ebi sounded particularly pleased with himself, even more than usual. _‘Can I drag you away from the politicians for five minutes?’_

‘If you can drag me away for thirty I’ll double your salary. I’ll be there shortly.’ Ironwood pocketed his scroll, standing briskly from the conference table. Taking one final moment to appreciate the crisp, cool air, he braced himself as he stepped out of the door and into the Mistral sun.

It took about ten steps before he was coated head to toe in sweat. The humidity settled over him like a wet blanket. All around Forward Operating Base Titan, Atlas soldiers had stripped down to their undershirts as they went about their tasks. Mantas were refuelled and rearmed, land vehicles were maintained, pallets of food and medical supplies were unloaded for transportation out to the refugee camps. Back breaking work, but the Assembly’s mandate had been very specific that no autonomous units were to be employed on Mistral soil.

Given that Atlesian Knights were designed to work in arctic conditions, not the jungle, it was a fairly redundant order.

Winter re-joined him halfway toward the detention block, if possible looking even more sweat soaked than he did. White locks were plastered against her temple, pale skin flushed bright red as she suffered in the heat.

‘Do you think if we traded those three to the White Fang they’d give us Sienna Khan?’

‘Sir, I’d give them to the White Fang for free.’ Winter wiped an arm across her forehead. Considering how soaked her sleeve already was, Ironwood was positive she’d added more sweat to her face, not less. ‘Speaking of people I’d give to the White Fang…’

Clover was waiting for them just outside the detention block. If uniform regulations had been relaxed in the rest of the base, Clover had forsaken them entirely. Dressed in a green PT shirt, shorts and flip-flops, the man looked as though he was on a fishing trip rather than a military operation. The beard on his chin helped complete the look. Like them, his shirt stuck to his chest, but he seemed perfectly at ease with it.

‘Sir, ma’am.’

‘Captain. Did someone talk?’

‘Getting them to talk wasn’t the issue. Getting them to shut up was the trick.’ Clover beckoned inside. Ironwood breathed a quiet sigh of relief as the ice-dust powered air conditioning kicked in. He was now uncomfortably cold, but at least the sweat was no longer pouring into his eyes.

‘Was it Harriet and Tortuga?’

‘Sadly, we can’t take credit for this one.’ Tortuga was waiting outside the main interrogation room, the slightly portly soldier rising slowly from his chair. ‘The kid’s a brave one. Refused all special favours and promises of parole. Called me a race traitor. Called Harriet a…well, something that shouldn’t be repeated in polite company.’

‘We’re not polite company, though,’ Harriet chimed in. ‘Still, his mother should wash that mouth out with soap.’

‘Kid?’ Winter’s brow furrowed. ‘Please tell me we aren’t interrogating a minor?’

‘He’s eighteen.’ Clover reassured her. ‘Barely. Must have been seventeen when the Fang recruited him.’

‘Remind me to throw _use of child soldiers_ on Khan’s charge sheet when we send her to Vytal.’ Ironwood stepped in front of the two way mirror. ‘So who was it that…oh…’

Inside the interrogation room, a sandy-haired youth with two prominent horse ears was sobbing into the shoulder of Elm Ederne. A half-eaten plate of brownies rested on the table beside them, whilst Elm herself was making soothing noises as she patted him on the back.

‘When Harriet and Tortuga couldn’t get anything out of him, I sent in Vine,’ Clover said.

Ironwood felt his blood turn cold. ‘Tell me you didn’t…’

‘Vine just sat there,’ Clover promised. ‘For two hours.’

Despite his relief, Ironwood still shivered. Even without knowing what that man could do…

‘Then you sent in Elm?’

‘With brownies in hand.’ Clover confirmed. ‘He couldn’t talk fast enough.

Harriet smirked. ‘Everyone wants to be a freedom fighter until things get too real.’

‘That is the problem with fantasies,’ Tortuga observed placidly. ‘Reality eventually kicks in.’

‘How did you even pick this one up?’

‘Ambushed a White Fang raiding party on their way back south. He was one of several that surrendered.’ Tortuga yawned. ‘They always think it’ll be in an epic battle, not a dawn firefight. We couldn’t capture any of the senior fighters, but once they went down the rest gave up pretty quickly.’

‘Well, given the choice between that and a hug from Elm, I know which one I’d pick.’ Ironwood glanced at the brownies and was reminded that he had skipped breakfast again.

‘Elm does give amazing hugs,’ Clover noted.

‘Tell me about it.’ Harriet and Tortuga said in unison. There was a sudden pause, Winter’s eyes narrowing at the pair.

Ironwood cleared his throat. ‘Well, let’s see what he has to say.’

\---------------------------

‘Okay, Andy.’ Elm gave the kid’s hand a reassuring pat. ‘Just tell General Ironwood what you told me, alright?’

‘Right, right.’ The kid took a deep, shuddering breath. ‘The High Leader’s camp moves around. They relocate every few days, never in the same place.’

They already knew that, but Ironwood nodded like the kid was giving them priceless information. It was hard not to feel sympathy for him. He was barely older than N-…than some of his students. Sienna had to be getting desperate to send them to the front lines so young.

 _‘Wouldn’t you?_ ’ A treacherous part of his mind pointed out. _‘What other options does she have?’_

‘But there are some camps that don’t move,’ Andy said. ‘Permanent ones, deeper inside our territory. The jungle canopy is too thick for your recon flights to penetrate. They’re used for training and resupply. That’s where the dust and weapons are kept when they’re shipped in from Vale or Vacuo. They train and arm everyone there, then send them forward to join up with whatever cells need reinforcements.’

‘You’re telling me that Sienna doesn’t move her most valuable assets?’ Winter’s tone made it clear what she thought of that.

‘Why would she?’ Clover countered. ‘She knows we can’t get that far south undetected.’

Ironwood nodded. ‘I believe him. Can you point out the camp on a map, son?’

‘I…I can.’ The kid licked his lips nervously. ‘If the White Fang finds out it was me…’

‘You’ll be taken care of,’ Clover said. ‘As promised. New identities for you and your mother and relocation to Vale.’

There was a tic in the boy’s face, a bead of sweat tracing down his cheek despite the cool air. ‘I know…but…you’re asking me to betray my people.’

‘No,’ Elm soothed. ‘We’re asking you to help end the violence. You’re doing the right thing, Andy. The moral thing.’

‘Right, right…I know that.’ The boy bowed his head. ‘Give me the map.’

\-------------------------

‘I want those locations independently verified by signals intelligence and every informant we have before any action is taken.’ Ironwood looked down at the tactical map, the updated White Fang base locations now illuminating previously green areas with blobs of red. ‘And that’s _if_ we take action.’

‘You’re saying we shouldn’t exploit this?’ Harriet looked positively distraught at the idea. ‘We’ve never had intelligence like this before.’

‘We have reports like this all the time from Menagerie.’ Vine observed from his side of the map. ‘But my suggestions to exploit them are always turned down.’

‘Can’t just raid Menagerie to get at a couple of White Fang.’ Tortuga yawned heavily. ‘The circumstances are different now. Drop a bomb on White Fang dust depots and we could end the war…apologies, _peacekeeping operation_ , overnight.’

Elm shook her head. ‘The kid could only give us the general area. Bombing would be too inaccurate. There are other villages in the area as well. Hit any one of them and you’ll have every last faunus in the DZ out for Atlas blood. I say we raid. Take a boat down the river, infiltrate the camp and blow the depot with precision charges.’

Winter interjected. ‘That camp is two hundred kilometres behind enemy lines. Even if you get in you won’t get back out again.’

‘With respect, ma’am, but that’s the job,’ Elm said. ‘Casualties are just going to keep stacking up the longer the fighting goes on. Losing one or two of us isn’t ideal…’

‘We could lose all of you and still not accomplish the mission,’ Winter said. ‘Or do you think there won’t be any faunus watching the riverways?’

‘We’ll disguise ourselves.’

‘With what? Fake ears? That’s idiotic.’

‘And slightly offensive,’ Tortuga said.

‘Oh…sorry…’

‘I mean, I used to glue fake ears to Harriet all the time back in the Academy but it didn’t make her convincing as a faunus.’ Tortuga smiled innocently. ‘Could never get her to try the tail though…’

Harriet smiled widely back at him. ‘How about I glue your…’

‘Please don’t bicker in front of the general,’ Winter snarled.

‘Right,’ Clover agreed. ‘Bicker out of sight, like professionals.’

Ironwood’s scroll buzzed again. And yet again he was more thankful for it then he should have been.

‘I need to take this,’ he said. ‘Keep working on a plan. Winter, can you moderate this? I need all proposals to limit casualties, have a reasonable chance of success and, if possible, kept racially sensitive.’

‘Sir, I…’

‘Thank you, Winter, you’re a treasure.’ Ironwood hurried out of the room before she could answer. He got one last look at the naked betrayal on her face before he slammed the door shut. The heated shouting that immediately followed made him briefly reach for the lock.

‘Better to leave them a way out,’ he whispered as he walked away. The last time he’d locked the Ace Ops in a room and told them to sort out their differences he’d come back to Harriet duct taped to the ceiling.

He finally answered his scroll, surprised to see it was an international call. ‘Taiyang? No, this is a good time. How can I help you?’

\--------------------------------

The walk from the ferry was idyllic, at least. Patch was beautiful. Almost worth the trip. Not quite worth the disappointed sighing from Cinder once she found out, but still. Blake could breathe a little easier away from the city. With its elevated altitude, Beacon and Vale were noticeably colder than she was used. Patch reminded her of home. A home she hadn’t seen for five years.

_‘Say goodbye to home. Leave behind the children you once were. You’re soldiers now.’_

Sienna had never lied to them about that. About so much else, they needed to lie. To friends, to family. To themselves somedays. But amongst each other there was honesty. When there was so little else, trust was the only thing that held the White Fang together.

‘How are you feeling?’

Blake shouldn’t have bristled so much at the voice. Yang had been noticeably less hostile over the last week. She’d even started sleeping in BYRN’s room again. She’d likely meant it as a peace offering, but so far it had just made Blake’s life harder as she continued to conceal her scar.

Blake had been very deliberate in building the wall between herself and the rest of the team. Whilst the questioning of her location had never stopped being tense and awkward, it would have been far worse if she’d allowed them to believe they were her friends. She needed the distance. Her survival depended on it.

And it had been working. Barring her shameful breakdown in the city after Sienna refused to recall her, she’d been able to keep things strictly neutral.

_‘So why did I say yes to this?’_

She shook her head, clearing away the discomfort in favour returning Yang’s expectant gaze. ‘I’m fine.’

‘You’ve been moving a bit stiffly lately,’ Yang said, the awkward note not quite leaving her voice. ‘I thought you might…maybe you had a hangover?’

‘That’s exactly what it was,’ Blake said. She fought back the urge to smile. ‘Just a hangover.’

‘Right. Sorry, you probably don’t feel like talking to anyone like that.’ Yang looked over at the rest of their group. They were mostly walking in groups of twos and threes, Nora and Penny chatting animatedly as Penny ran between flowers and trees to pick them up and sniff at them. Weiss, Pyrrha and Jaune trailed behind, a faint limp showing in Weiss’ stride despite her best efforts to conceal it.

Blake had to swallow her frustration at the guilt the sight induced. All of them except Penny had taken some kind of injury, some worse than others. But they’d all lived and they would all recover. Besides, they were her enemies. Or would be, once they finished their training.

_‘Make no mistake, Blake. Your goal at Beacon is not learning to be a huntress. It is learning to **kill** huntresses.’_

Atlas huntresses. Mistral ones. Ones from Vale and Vacuo if need be. One day she might have to look at Yang down the sights of a rifle. She’d prefer not to have to wrestle with her emotions when that day came.

_‘So why did I say yes to this?’_

It wasn’t within the scope of her mission to convince a huntress-in-training to keep being one. The exact opposite. It could only benefit the White Fang if one more huntress chose not to join the system that oppressed them.

_‘Wouldn’t it cheapen her death if I didn’t continue her work?’_

Her fists clenched on instinct, her head sharply snapping away from Yang. ‘You do realise she’ll probably say no, don’t you? She’s not going to thank you for intruding on her boundaries like this.’

‘Or maybe I’m stopping her from making a mistake?’

Blake shrugged. ‘I think you’re lying to yourself, but it’s your mistake to make.’ _They always are._

‘Thank you for trying,’ Yang said. ‘If nothing else.’

‘I still don’t think it will work.’ Blake repeated.

‘Maybe,’ Yang said. A rueful smile flickered across her lips. ‘But the thanks still goes.’

\----------------------------

‘Dad, I’m home!’ His eldest daughter’s voice sounded from the threshold. ‘Brought a couple of friends with me.’

‘I’m in the kitchen, sweetie,’ Tai called back. He dusted the flour off his hands, then placed the bowl of cake batter to the side. Yang would scull half the bowl if he left it away from the oven for too long, but he could spare a few minutes to welcome his eldest. ‘Do your friends want dinner? I’m sure we can make room if you…’

He paused. Yang stood at the entrance to the kitchen. A dozen kids in huntsmen outfits stood with her.

‘Salutations!’ One of the redheads piped up. ‘We would very much appreciate the offer of dinner. Emotional conversations are always taxing for human beings and can be greatly smoothed with the addition of food. Such is a common tactic in business negotiations, diplomatic summits and interrogations. Not that I would know anything about those.’

She hiccuped.

‘Is that Yang?’ A muffled voice screamed from upstairs. ‘Yang!’

A dog barked furiously as feet pounded on the upper floors. There was the crack-thump of a human being passing the sound barrier, then the whoosh of rose petals descending the stairs.

‘Yang! I got an internship in Atlas! I’m leaving next week! I’m going to be working with Velvet’s dad and Doctor Polendina and heaps of others, I just got off the scroll with Doctor Shell and she said that he…’ Ruby paused as she took in the other people standing around the kitchen. ‘Um…’

‘Congratulations, friend Ruby!’ The redhead piped up once more. ‘Internships with the Atlas military science division are renowned for their reasonable work hours, friendly collegial environment and fair compensation schemes.’

She hiccuped again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why do we never talk about the horror show that must be internships in Atlas? Imagine being an intern in Doctor Polendina's lab when he comes in and announces he literally wants to rip his soul in half to power a disturbingly lifelike robot doll.


	15. 'the girl with doubts'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yang tries to persuade Ruby to come back to Beacon, but the odds stack against her with Ruby's heart set on Atlas.
> 
> Shocked by the existence of her family, Adam questions Raven's definition of strength.

If someone was to ask her who the best big sister in the whole wide world was, Ruby could safely say without one word of a lie that it was Yang Xiao-Long.

What big sister could match Yang? Who could give a faster cart ride than Yang? Who could push Ruby’s tricycle up a hill like Yang? Who beat up bullies like Yang? Shared her cookies like Yang? Made squeals of delight when Ruby made her first prototype of Crescent Rose like Yang?

Yang was the toughest, funnest, prettiest and all around best big sister that ever was or ever would be.

But sometimes Ruby had her doubts. Because sometimes Yang did stupid things like bringing ten of their friends to convince Ruby to come back to Beacon. Ten friends who now sat in the Xiao-Long household’s living room, sipping a mixture of tea, coffee and hot chocolate.

‘So…how are you kids enjoying Beacon?’ Dad said as he walked around with a tray of biscuits. ‘Ozpin still coming up with inventive ways to boot kids off that cliff?’

‘Yes,’ Weiss smiled back. ‘This year it was spring-loaded platforms.’

‘Spring-loaded…? Ha!’ Dad slapped his knee with a bit more force than was necessary. ‘What will he think of next? Good thing you all had your landing strategies sorted out, huh?’

Pyrrha and Jaune exchanged a nervous glance before sipping their tea. Dad glanced between Ruby and Yang. A blind man could have seen the frosty glare from one and the innocent smile from the other.

Zwei whined unhappily and squiggled further under the couch.

‘Right…well…I’m going to take the dog for a walk,’ Dad announced. ‘Let you guys catch up.’

‘Please, there’s really no need to do that,’ Jaune said, a slight squeak at the end. ‘Wouldn’t want you to…’

‘Have fun, we’ll talk dinner when I get back, bye!’

Ciel hummed. ‘That must be what the General refers to as the wise tactician quitting the unfavourable battlefield.’

‘Well, we probably weren’t going to get anything done with him hanging around,’ Yang said with forced cheer. ‘So…’

‘So you were just going to wait until the one person that’s on my side decided to leave?’ Ruby’s eyes narrowed. ‘That’s really nice of you, Yang. You get ten people on your side, but I get no one?’

Penny raised her hand. ‘Actually, having a weapons designer of your obvious creativity and drive working in the Atlas military science division would be of immense benefit to our kingdom, so I am actually on _your_ side.’

Ruby felt a flash of gratitude for the strange girl’s intervention. ‘Thanks Penny.’

Yang looked betrayed. ‘Does anyone else feel like that?’

Ciel’s arm got halfway up before Sun’s tail caught it. The team leader gave the rest of the Atlas cadets a stern glare before turning back to Ruby.

‘We’re not on any one side, Ruby,’ Sun said gently. ‘After what you went through at the docks we just wanted to be here and support you. Whatever you choose to do next. I do think you should come back to Beacon, but I acknowledge that it’s your choice to make, no one else’s.’

‘Same for me,’ Ren said. ‘I think you should do whatever makes you happy. Forcing you to do otherwise would be far worse.’

There were a number of nods in agreement, some more reluctant than others.

‘Could you hear us out, at least?’ Weiss said, resting a hand on Yang’s shoulder and drawing her back onto the couch. ‘Please, we…we really didn’t come here to force you into anything.’

Ruby could have made a dozen arguments to the contrary, but the pleading looks on Weiss and Jaune’s faces made the words freeze in her craw. They…they had come all this way, hadn’t they? Surely she could hear them out…

‘Fine.’ Ruby said curtly, trying to ignore the pleased smile on Pyrrha’s face. ‘But only if I get to have my say afterwards.’

‘We’ll go one for one,’ Weiss promised. ‘Jaune, take it away.’

‘Right,’ Jaune cleared his throat as he took out a paper list. ‘First of all, our team name no longer works if you leave.’

‘That’s your...? Right, nevermind. You’ll just have to find another name.’

‘We’ve tried.’ Weiss said, punctuating her words with a sad shake of her head. ‘There’s no way to make any of our initials work in a way that’s a colour.’

‘There’s ASP?’ Penny suggested.

‘That’s a snake, not a colour,’ Pyrrha said.

Ruby tried to harden her heart. But the sad frowns on Pyrrha, Jaune and Weiss’ faces were too much. The giggle burst out of her throat before she could stop it, a high-squeaking sound that was all the worse for trying to stifle it. The satisfied smiles that Weiss and Yang quickly exchanged dampened her humour somewhat, but didn’t kill it.

‘Ok, what else?’

‘We always wanted to be huntresses when we were kids,’ Yang said. ‘It was always our dream. We promised to have each other’s backs.’

Ruby’s smile faded. ‘Yang…I meant it back then, I really did. But…it’s not what I thought it would be. I don’t want to have to fight people for a living.’

‘You don’t have to,’ Pyrrha said quickly. ‘A lot of huntresses never fight anything other than Grimm. Just don’t take contracts from the police.’

‘But it’ll still be there. Supposing I see someone getting robbed by a rogue huntsman like Torchwick? I couldn’t just sit back and do nothing because I’m a huntress that only fights Grimm.’

Nora suddenly piped up. ‘But you don’t even do that now? You were one of the first ones over the fence to fight Torchwick!’

Ruby stared down at her hands. ‘And someone died for it.’

It was like ice water had been pumped into the room. The spark of banter that had crept in was immediately snuffed out. Nora glanced away awkwardly, Jaune scratched the back of his head, even Weiss seemed unsure of herself.

‘Most of you know who my mother is,’ Ruby murmured. ‘Raven Branwen.’

Ciel’s eyes widened and Sun looked grim, but most of the others just nodded their heads in quiet acknowledgement. It had never been a secret, not with Peach and Oobleck and Miss Goodwitch blabbing all about it on the first day. Ruby closed her eyes, the tears of shame that she’d forced down then threatening to well back up in her eyes. They hadn’t even considered what revealing that to everyone might feel like to her. Not for a second.

‘She’s a thief and a murderer.’ Ruby spat out the words, Weiss flinching at the hate in them. ‘She left me and Dad and Yang and…and Uncle Qrow and she ran back to that awful tribe full of murderers. She’s the worst person alive. And I’m not going to end up like her.’

Even Yang seemed taken aback by the words. ‘Ruby, you won’t. You’ll never…’

‘I’ve heard it from Dad,’ Ruby cut her off. ‘And from Uncle Qrow. I’ve already made up my mind. I want to go where I won’t be tempted. I can help build weapons that will protect the kingdoms from the Grimm.’

‘And what makes you think those guns won’t be used on people?’

The room paused, heads swivelling toward the corner where Bella had been standing in silence. The quite girl took a step forward, head cocked at Ruby expectantly. So far she had said and done nothing, yellow eyes inscrutable as she looked Ruby up and down. Her body language was…strange. Her arms were firmly crossed, fingers digging into her biceps. Considering how open and relaxed the others were, or were _trying_ to be, Bella looked like she was expecting an attack at any second.

‘Well? Atlas is using their guns against the faunus right now.’

‘Against the White Fang,’ Ciel corrected. ‘There are numerous human sympathisers…’

‘And the White Fang are using Atlas guns.’ Bella paused, then hastily added, ‘If I’m reading the news right.’

‘Stolen and smuggled ordnance,’ Weiss muttered.

‘The weapons Ruby designs could easily be stolen or smuggled further down the track.’ Bella didn’t break her gaze. ‘So what will you do if that happens, Ruby? Quit your job in Atlas and run away from that too?’

Yang bristled. ‘Bella…’

‘What? You wanted us to make our case against Ruby going to Atlas? I’m making it.’

‘I wanted to make a case for her staying in Beacon,’ Yang said, a touch of nervousness in her voice. ‘I didn’t mean…’

‘She thinks it’s a viable alternative. I’m saying it’s not. And that’s by her own logic.’ Bella narrowed her eyes. ‘Or do you think that just being the person who forges the guns absolves you of any responsibility in how they’re used?’

Ruby squirmed under the relentlessness of Bella’s gaze. Weiss looked highly uncomfortable as well. ‘I don’t think that…’

‘At least as a huntress you get to control what force is used and when. You can’t say for certain that the Mistral Assembly won’t vote to use the guns Atlas sells them to bomb Menagerie to dust. People could die…’

‘Bella, I killed someone already!’

‘No you didn’t.’

Ruby blinked. ‘Uh…I did? I wish I hadn’t but…’

‘You didn’t,’ Bella said with a shake of her head. ‘I’ve been keeping tuned in to the local police network. The crime reports as well. Look.’

She held up her scroll, on which the clear surveillance image of a figure in a white coat and a black fedora. The figure was undoubtedly female, holding a thin swordstick against the throat of a security guard at an SDC dust outlet. Her face was covered by a white neck-sock and her eyes by reflective glasses.

‘See?’ Bella pointed to the picture. ‘It’s the girl you fought at the docks, right? She’s been seen hitting marks all over town with Roman Torchwick. Some during the weeks, some on weekends. But always the same accomplice.’

Ruby lifted her head. ‘She’s alive?’

‘Unless Torchwick has a stash of girls that height and weight who fight with sword-sticks.’ Yang chipped in. From the look on her face it was news to her, but she certainly wasn’t allowing the opportunity to slip past. ‘You didn’t kill her, Rubes. She’s alive, well, and hitting dust depots all over the city. And I gotta say? I kind of admire that kind of grit. She took a scythe to the chest and just walked it off. Props.’

Ruby’s head sunk back down. ‘It doesn’t matter. I’m still not coming back.’

‘Ruby…’

‘You don’t know what it felt like…’ The quiver in her voice silenced Yang before she could protest. ‘The look on her face when her weapon broke…the surprise…she was so afraid. Then I had her blood all over me…’

‘It wasn’t your fault.’ Weiss stood from her own chair, small fists clenched tight. ‘ _She_ was the one stealing my family’s property. _She_ was in the wrong. Just like those animals raiding those dust depots in Northern Mistral. They all deserve…’

‘She didn’t and they don’t.’ Ruby snapped back. ‘I’d rather have all the dust in Vale stolen than kill someone.’

‘Weiss is right.’ All heads swivelled back to Bella as she made her declaration.

‘I am?’ Weiss blinked. ‘I mean, of course I am!’

‘Maybe it was just dust,’ Bella continued, ignoring the heiress in her usual manner. ‘But whoever that girl was, she made her choice to be out there with Roman Torchwick. She made the choice to fight. She and Torchwick attacked all of you with deadly weapons. They could have killed you. There was always the risk you might kill them back. That’s simply the law of the wild.’

‘Bella!’ Pyrrha began to protest, but Yang caught her arm and shook her head.

‘You can spend your whole life trying to prove to the whole world that you’re not a monster. Trust me, I know people who tried.’ Bella closed her eyes, something wet glistening on her lashes. ‘But the world is full of terrible people who won’t be impressed no matter how much of a beating you take without complaint. Those people have to be fought, Ruby. Or else they’re going to get away with it.’

‘But it’s just dust…’

‘Today,’ Bella nodded. ‘But what about tomorrow? Sure, it’s easy when they’re robbing evil bastards like Jacques Schnee…’

‘Hey!’

‘…but what about when it’s just a shopkeeper’s electricity dust? Or a nursing home for the dust they need to stay warm? You might think what you’re doing right now is virtuous, Ruby, but it isn’t. Bad people thrive on it. That unwillingness good people have to use violence. They count on it. That’s why they’re afraid of people like you. Like Yang and Jaune and Pyrrha.’

Her eyes tracked to the left. ‘Like Nora…like Ren…and Weiss...and Snowcap. Good people who can fight. Who aren’t afraid to fight. Defenders. The world needs more people like you, Ruby, not less. Maybe if there were then my…then things would be different.’

Eyes of amber met those of scarlet. Bella extended her hand.

‘Come back to Beacon with us,’ she said. ‘That’s where you belong. With your team.’

‘With all of us,’ Ren said. The quiet boy rested his hand on Bella’s shoulder. ‘With hunters.’

Weiss stepped up next to Bella. The taller girl blinked as Weiss took her hand. The heiress managed a tiny smile, a hopeful gleam in her eyes. ‘And friends.’

\--------------------------------

Tai pushed open the door to find what he’d half hoped and half feared. A stack of bags by the door, a weapons case on the table and Zwei bedecked in pink ribbons as half a dozen girls fussed over him.

But since there was an unreserved smile on his little girl’s face, he’d take it all and ask for more.

‘Well, I know someone wasn’t going to just sneak out the house without saying goodbye.’ The grin on his own face somewhat spoilt the warning tone he was going for.

Ruby’s return grin was slightly sheepish. ‘Actually…we’ve kind of missed the last ferry for the evening. I had a lot to pack.’

The look Jaune and Ren shot each other let Tai know exactly who had done most of the packing. ‘Well then, I suppose you’ll all need feeding? Who’s up for some pizza?’

The eager smiles that greeted him truly were a balm to his soul. It made it all the sweeter when he slammed the trap shut.

‘Excellent! If you want to eat, you’re going to have to work. Jaune, Ren! You can fire up my wood oven in the backyard. Yang! Garden detail, take one of the redheads with you. Ruby, I want enough dough made up for a dozen pizzas, use the other redhead and the mopey one. I’ll get to work on the cake. Ice Princess?’

‘Yes, Mr. Xiao Long?’

‘I’m gonna need some help with the icing. Hope you can get really fine detail with those glyphs of yours, because I demand only the best in my kitchen.’

‘Daaaaaad,’ Yang groaned. ‘Can’t we just order in pizza?’

‘Pfft, I might as well keep Zwei and bark myself. To work, offspring and offspring’s friends!’

Accompanied by groans, giggles and happy barking, his impromptu labour force began their assigned tasks. Soon the air began to fill with the aroma of burning wood, sugar and flour and the slight whiff of cold beer as Yang snuck some bottles from the fridge. Tai moved among it all, letting the peace of the moment smother the fresh dread building within him.

Ruby would be happy again at Beacon. That was enough for him. It had to be enough.

\-----------------------------------------

_When his teeth bit into the meat, he thought he might cry. Then he did._

_Was it lamb? He’d smelled lamb once. Outside the guard room during a winter holiday, the rich scent of roasting meat had drawn him closer, his mouth watering enough to overcome his fear. He’d devoured his tasteless gruel and hard bread and pretended it was slices of that roast meat drenched in gravy._

_One of the guards, the kind one with hair as red as his, had snuck him a whole roast potato from her dinner that night. No meat, but it had soaked in the fat long enough to absorb some of the flavour. The heat had singed his hands and scorched his tongue on the way down, but he’d devoured it whole anyway._

_The kind guard had laughed at that. She’d ruffled his hair and promised to sneak him some more food when she could. She kept her promise. A bit of bread with real butter. An apple that was almost fresh. Once even a chocolate bar. He devoured all of it as it came, before one of the bigger kids or even the adults in the camp could beat him and take it away._

_The kind girl had even brought him a mostly clean bandage and half a tube of burn cream after his accident. She’d let him cry into her tunic as she dressed the wound._

_He tried not to think about her blood pooling in the snow as the bandits stepped over her body._

_Was he crying about the meat? Or was he crying because of that potato?_

_‘What a freak,’ a girl’s voice sneered. ‘Cries when you give him food. Cries when you give him a coat. Whining and crying and mewling away. I think you’re a dog faunus.’_

_Adam wiped the tears away from his good eye with his sleeve, glaring at the ugly little girl sneering down at him._

_‘Leave me alone.’ He spat._

_‘Why should I?’ Vernal put her hands on her hips in imitation of their chief. ‘You’re not strong enough to stop me.’_

_Adam looked down at his arms. Even after two weeks with the Branwens, eating better than he ever had, his arms were like sticks. Vernal, on the other hand, was twelve, taller and stronger than he was. She was the one to catch him stealing, beating him black and blue before the chief had called for an end._

_He couldn’t stop her and they both knew it._

_She snatched the meat out of his hands, biting off a huge chunk and wolfing it down with a grin. ‘It’s good food. Too good to waste on strays.’_

_Adam shot to his feet. ‘Give it back,’ he demanded._

_‘Or what?’_

_‘Give it back!’ Adam stamped his foot, his good eye watering. ‘It’s unfair!’_

_‘Nothing is fair!’_

_The voice didn’t come from Vernal. Nor from any of the other children gathered near the cooking fires. It came from the chief._

_Raven Branwen sat beside one of the larger fires, Shay and a few others glancing at the squabbling children with vague amusement. There was no smile on Raven’s face, however. Her eyes were hard in the firelight, glowing blood red as she gazed at Adam._

_‘Nothing is fair,’ she repeated. ‘That is the law of the wild. Those who want to survive, fight for it. All else dies. Only the domesticated animal is fed. And only then because they’re being fattened up for slaughter.’_

_Vernal preened at the chief’s indirect praise, but Raven didn’t look at her. ‘Well, boy? Aren’t you going to fight to survive?’_

_Adam’s head hung, breaking his gaze as he stared at the ground. What was the point in fighting when he’d only lose?_

_‘Perhaps some incentive then?’ Raven glanced toward the cook. ‘Double rations for the winner. Either one.’_

_Adam’s head snapped up in time to catch Vernal’s fist in his cheek. The other kids cheered as Adam fell to the ground, whooping and screaming as Vernal climbed on top, pummelling him mercilessly as he tried to protect his face._

_Bucking didn’t work. Nor did trying to punch upwards. Vernal easily turned his hands aside. He ducked his head down, tucking his chin into his chest to try and make a smaller target._

_Vernal suddenly cried out, clutching her hand. ‘You little brat!’_

_Two of her fingers hung uselessly from her right hand. With a start, Adam realised that she’d accidentally struck one of his horns. He hadn’t meant…_

_‘I’m gonna kill you.’_

_Her good hand shot for his neck. Adam felt her weight shift and bucked furiously. She unbalanced for a brief second, allowing him to wriggle free. He tried to run, only for Vernal to catch him by the leg. They fell over again, Vernal squealing as his weight landed on her injured hand._

_His teeth found her shoulder as hers locked around his wrist._

‘You’ve got that look on your face.’

Adam didn’t look up from the fire. ‘What look?’

Vernal yawned, gesturing to his face with her off hand. ‘That. Like you’re pretending to have deep thoughts.’

‘How do you know I’m not?’

‘You don’t have the education for deep thoughts. You barely know how to read.’

‘Whose fault is that? You taught me.’

‘Raven made me.’

‘Did she make you be such a bad teacher?’

‘Oh for the love of…’ Shay stood up with a snarl from where he’d been napping by the fire. ‘If you’re going to do this little mating dance, at least have the courtesy to do it at one of the smaller fires!’

He stormed off, Adam gazing bemusedly after him until he was out of sight. ‘Weird.’

‘Yeah.’ Vernal nodded. ‘Hey…’

Adam felt a brush of cold air against his face, the telltale rush of Vernal’s flashstep. The next second she was back across the fire from him, his mask now firmly perched on her face. Adam’s hand slapped across his left eye on reflex.

‘What do you think?’ Vernal said. ‘Do I look dramatic enough?’

‘Give that back,’ Adam said.

‘Why?’ Vernal gave him an innocent smile. ‘Are you strong enough to take it?’

Adam reached for his sword. Vernal flashstepped again, now posing with his mask and sword like they were fashion accessories. ‘Vernal!’

‘Hold on, I think I feel the effect kicking in.’ Vernal scowled and gazed into the fire. ‘Oh yeah. I feel like brooding for hours in this thing.’

‘Vernal, give him the damn mask back and go get me some food.’ Raven interrupted a moment before Adam could strike. ‘Stop acting like a teenager.’

‘Doesn’t help that she looks like a pre-pubescent girl,’ Adam chimed in.

‘You shut it as well.’ Raven snapped. ‘Gods, all day, every day. Even me and T-…forget it, just do as I said. Adam, put the bloody mask back on. I’m getting sick of staring at that scar.’

He was happy to comply. It impeded his vision, but he felt calmer with it on. In control.

Raven dropped into the camping chair Vernal had vacated, massaging her temples with an irritated sigh. Adam wordlessly passed her the vodka bottle by his side, then resumed staring at the fire. Raven eyed him balefully after a swig.

‘Normally, I don’t think the wheels in Vernal’s head spin at full speed. But she’s right about one thing. You could definitely afford to brood a little less.’

‘I’ll take that under advisement.’

‘Maybe smile a little bit more? You have a nice smile.’

He bared his teeth and stretched his lips. Raven arched an eyebrow.

‘Well, if you want to scare off every girl in the camp, be my guest.’

‘You have a daughter.’

‘She’s a bit young for you.’

Adam scowled. ‘You had a family. It wasn’t just your brother like you said.’

‘That’s what’s bothering you?’ She seemed genuinely amused at that. ‘I hate to break it to you, boy, but that’s far from the biggest secret I keep from you.’

‘It’s not the secrets.’

‘Then what is it?’ Raven leaned forward, fingers idly playing over the top of the bottle in her hands. ‘Did you object to me taking you along to Patch? I thought you wanted more missions with me?’

‘I’m just trying to figure out your logic.’ Reaching forward, Adam stoked the coals of the fire. ‘You had a daughter. You left her behind. Now you want her back. But…why didn’t you just take her with you in the first place? There’s plenty of kids in the camp. She could have grown up here and…’

‘No.’ The smile had faded from Raven’s face. ‘If I’d taken her with me Tai and Qrow would have never stopped looking for her. And it would have been a shame for me to leave Yang without a father and uncle once they forced me to kill them. She wasn’t mine, but she was sweet enough.’

‘Then bring both of them,’ Adam said. ‘If you cared about them…if you loved them then why leave them behind?’

‘I had a responsibility as chief,’ Raven said. ‘I couldn’t do that and look after two children at the same time. Life out here isn’t like the cities. The law of the wild reigns supreme. If I’d brought them then…’

She cut herself off. Perhaps she knew that she’d said too much, because Adam could already guess the rest.

‘Then they might have died? Because you weren’t strong enough to protect them?’

Raven’s voice was dangerously soft. ‘Those are some dangerous words, boy.’

Adam didn’t know where the sudden fire in his chest came from, but he lifted his head to meet her eyes without flinching. ‘I’m just trying to get to the truth. Either you left because they were all weak and they’d just get you killed too, or you left because you thought they were safer there.’

‘Adam…’

‘But why leave at all? If your brother wasn’t lying, if you were happy and you loved them, then why not stay and protect them? Help them become strong?’

‘It would have been wasted effort. Tai would never have let me teach them in our way. He would have cuddled and cossetted them, undone everything I tried to teach them. The kingdoms breed weakness. It infected Qrow.’

‘Is that why you ran? Were you afraid it was infecting you too?’

‘Are you questioning my strength, Adam?’ She cocked an eye in thought. ‘Or are you just jealous that you didn’t get the kind of childhood they did?’

Adam stiffened at the question. ‘Don’t make this…’

‘It makes sense. Who wouldn’t be upset at the injustice of it? They got clean sheets, hot meals and fluffy toys because they were born as humans on Patch. You got, well…’ She gestured at his eye. ‘Because you were born as a faunus in Atlas. I might be pissed as well.’

‘I’m not pissed at them.’ It was only half a lie.

‘Ah…then you’re pissed at me? Why? For not dropping you off with them?’ Her smile grew broad as he flinched. ‘Ah…you wish it had been you getting called down from your bedroom for breakfast. Why Adam, I had no idea that you were so desperate for a father figure.’

Everything he said she turned against him, so Adam chose to remain silent. Raven’s giggles died out quickly once he failed to respond to them.

‘Well, I thought it was funny,’ Raven sighed. She tossed the vodka back to him. ‘Have another drink. Cheer yourself up.’

He tossed it straight back. ‘No thanks. I’m going to turn in.’

He hadn’t taken two paces before she spoke again. ‘You know, you can blame me for not giving you a perfect childhood, I don’t mind, but it was a damn sight better than leaving you in an SDC quarry. Matter of fact, I don’t think I’ve even heard you say thanks for that.’

‘Thank you,’ Adam said.

‘You’re welcome.’

‘May I go now?’

‘And deprive myself of this scintillating conversation?’ Raven pressed a hand to her mouth as if shocked. ‘Come on, Adam. There’s something you’re dying to say, so why don’t you say it? Unless you really are this upset because I didn’t hug you enough when you were small?’

He’d come too far to turn back now. ‘Did you love your husband? Your daughters?’

‘I suppose I did. Can’t say I enjoyed nine months of pregnancy and a twelve hour labour, but I cared about them.’

‘But you still left them behind.’

‘The tribe comes first. Always.’

‘Then you’d leave anyone behind?’ His hand tightened on his sword. ‘No matter how much you cared about them?’

Her lip curled at that. ‘If they were strong enough, they wouldn’t need to worry about me leaving.’

They stayed there for a few moments, teacher and student staring at each other with carefully schooled expressions. Finally Adam turned away with a growl.

‘Forget it. I’m going to bed.’

‘You _are_ strong, Adam,’ Raven called after him. ‘Perhaps you start acting like it.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one came out a little faster due to me already having written a huge chunk of Blake and Ruby's dialogue earlier. I had to rewrite Adam and Raven's dialogue, however. It sounded far too much like Adam had a prepared speech planned out, instead of just whatever random thoughts he had. The cognitive dissonance of believing that Raven cares about him along with seeing what Raven actually does to people she supposedly loves throws him for a tailspin after all, and we canonically know that Adam does not process complex emotions well.
> 
> A very Merry Christmas to you all.


	16. 'the girl with a secret'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blake attempts to re-establish the walls between herself and the rest of JSPR and BYRN. The first cracks begin to appear in her story as Weiss and Yang press toward the truth. Well meaning curiosity may begin to unravel what mistrust and suspicion could not...

_‘Morning, James!’_

_‘Good morning.’_

_‘Major Ironwood, good morning.’_

_‘Morning, Fenwick.’_

_‘Good morning, sir. Hope you’re feeling better?’_

_‘Much better, Saunders. How’s the boyfriend?’_

_‘Husband now, sir.’_

_‘Time flies,’ James tapped his cane against his leg with a wink. The orderly laughed politely at the joke before making her way past him with a tray of breakfast orders._

_The officer’s mess of Atlas Academy was filled with instructors and fourth year students, as well as whatever military personnel were choosing to take advantage of the excellent menu available._

_James had been looking forward to tearing his teeth into a stack of pancakes for far too long down in the medical ward. No ice cream though. The doctors had been very insistent about avoiding dairy._

_‘James!’ A far more familiar voice interrupted his hunger. ‘Thought I might find you here.’_

_He couldn’t help the smile that spread over his face. ‘Arthur!’_

_The warm look on his friend’s face was most welcome, as was the arm Arthur flung around his shoulders. Though his rank was more technical than substantial, Arthur was entitled to eat in the mess as much as any other officer, and from the looks of his plate, was taking full advantage._

_‘Truth be told, Pietro asked me to make sure you didn’t go crazy on the food. Said to remind you that what’s left of your stomach can’t handle as much as it used to, and certainly nothing too rich. Recommended soft toast and scrambled eggs.’_

_‘I’m not living on soft toast and scrambled eggs for the rest of my life,’ James growled._

_Arthur grinned smugly. ‘I know, that’s why I ordered you a shortstack with berry compote and maple syrup.’_

_‘You’re a godsend, Arthur.’_

_‘I know.’ Arthur was never one to avoid claiming the credit when it was due. He flagged down one of the orderlies. ‘Two black coffees, please.’_

_After the watery swill down in the medical ward, the rich Atlas roast was a balm to James’ long starved caffeine habit. Arthur was content to lean back and enjoy his own coffee as James made war upon the stack of pancakes in front of him._

_‘So…’ James stifled a burp. ‘Is this just a social call? Or do you have something else up your sleeve?’_

_‘James, I am shocked, absolutely shocked, that you would suspect me of something so underhanded. Do I look like the kind of man who, after my best friend has just spent six months fighting for his life in a hospital, would immediately start cashing in favours?’_

_‘Yes.’_

_‘What a splendid judge of character you are.’_

_James caught the files flicked over to him. ‘Armour upgrades?’_

_‘Not just upgrades. A completely new armour system, based in part on the motorised joints and internal cooling systems I used to put together your prosthetics.’_

_‘That you **and** Pietro used to put them together?’_

_‘Yes, yes, he helped,’ Arthur waved the point away. ‘Point being, I’m getting stalled by the usual brass on the approvals committee. But if someone, say, the adjutant to the Supreme Commander was to whisper it in their ear…’_

_‘Shame I’m not the SCA’s adjutant then,’ James retorted._

_‘James, James, you really must catch up on current events.’ Green eyes flashing with mischief, Arthur leaned in close. ‘General Carroll is on her way out. Corruption allegations from Major Anderson.’_

_‘Aria blew the whistle on Carroll?’ He wouldn’t have thought anything could have shaken their bond._

_‘Some messy business involving family, I wasn’t paying attention. Point is, Anderson is taking a posting with Third Expeditionary Force, no doubt to avoid the shrapnel of Carroll going down. That means when Nightsong takes over as Supreme Commander…’_

_‘If.’_

_‘When,’ Arthur insisted. ‘He’ll be looking for an aide-de-camp with a squeaky clean service record. And that, my friend, will be you.’_

_‘So you want me to help you rush your armour upgrades through approvals? Right after corruption allegations?’_

_‘Not rush. Just…mention the quality of my work?’_

_James flicked the files back at him. ‘If it’s good, it’ll make it through approvals.’_

_Arthur sighed heavily. ‘Is it the fate of every genius to go unappreciated in his own time? And after I collected your mail for you as well. Look, got them all right here.’_

_He produced a large basket filled with paper slips. James couldn’t stifle a groan as he saw just how many had ‘Atlas Academy Mess Committee’ on the front._

_‘Looks like you haven’t paid your mess bills in six months, James. Naughty boy.’ Arthur seemed to take a fiendish delight in shuffling through them. ‘Let’s see, bill, bill, bill, bill, parking ticket, bill, bill, speeding ticket…’_

_‘I wasn’t driving…’_

_‘Borrowed your car, needed to turn the engine over. Ah, here’s a new one. Mistral, I see. Oh, and is that perfume I smell?’_

_James head jerked up sharply. ‘Perfume?’_

_‘Yes, and sealed with something…pink?’ Arthur took a deep sniff. ‘From Thyri…who’s Thyri? Don’t tell me, you’ve picked up a lady admirer in Mistral…’_

_James snatched the letter out of his hand. Arthur watched, slightly miffed as James poured over the near illegible handwriting. His left hand began to tremble as he processed the words on the page._

_‘When did this arrive?’ He demanded, voice hoarse. ‘When? A week ago? A month?’_

_‘That one? Oh, must have been about five months, I think. Just after your injuries.’_

_‘Five months…she could be anywhere…anywhere.’ James grabbed his cane, his new hip slamming into the table and sending coffee everywhere. ‘I need a flight to Mistral. I need it right now!’_

_‘James, calm down, what are you…?’_

_‘Get out of my way.’ James barged past him, sending Arthur flying as he charged toward the exit of the mess, heedless of the scandalised glances the rest of the officer cadre was sending him._

_He needed a flight. And Qrow. Qrow knew Mistral back to front. He’d know where to find her. He had to._

\------------------------------

James opened his eyes and sighed. The faint glow of his bedside clock was the only light in the room. Four o’clock. Five hours sleep, then. An hour longer than he usually got. Despite that, his body felt awake, without weariness or lethargy. That would usually kick in around lunchtime or so.

Throwing his legs over the side of the bed, he paused for a moment at the brief flash of pain up his right arm. Pain that shouldn’t be there since there was no longer a right arm to feel pain. It took a few moments for his body to correct the anomaly. It was a common enough problem for him these days. Pietro had offered various neural blockers. And there were…other solutions.

Safer to just wait it out.

The beating of hot water against his skin was accompanied by the equally rapid patter of the spray against his steel. He’d never really gotten used to it, even after all these years. But service demanded sacrifice. Sometimes it was that simple.

He barely needed to think about his morning routine. Showering, shaving, brushing teeth and making the bed. Almost thirty years of habit, drilled into him from his first morning at Atlas Academy as a brand new cadet in Team Valiant. Little things had been added, of course. A handful of tablets to regulate his body’s interaction with his prosthetics, a quick maintenance inspection of some of his more delicate parts, then a computerised diagnostic of his artificial right lung.

Fully functional and ready for the day.

Despite the early hour, the accommodation pods were still quite active when he left his quarters. Bombproofed and climate controlled, the normal ratio was two officers or four enlisted to each pod. Due to his rank, James had one to himself. Part of him missed the banter that came with a shared room.

General Nightsong’s still echoed in his ears years later. _‘Your peer group gets smaller the higher you rise. And it gets very lonely at the top.’_

If anything that had been an understatement.

Most of the early risers were jogging or conducting workouts on the improvised gyms, trying to beat the heat that would accompany the rising of the sun. Without a properly equipped gym, they conducted bodyweight exercises on welded heave beams and dip bars. The sweat poured off them as they worked, none of them yet fully acclimatised to the heat. James made it a point to give an approving nod as he walked past. Extra effort always needed to be encouraged and rewarded.

‘Good morning, sir!’

‘Good morning, Jenkins.’ He nodded. ‘How’s the wife?’

‘Wants another baby, sir.’

‘I’ll see if I can move up your promotion course. Get you that sergeant’s pay rise a little earlier.’

‘Appreciate it, sir.’

‘Can I get a pay rise as well, sir?’

‘I didn’t think you were having a kid, Walker.’

‘Well, if you’re free this evening, sir…?’

James chuckled along with the others. ‘My daughter’s already eating me out of house and home on a General’s salary. Not sure I could afford another.’

‘Hey sir, we wrapping this war up soon or what? I pre-booked tickets to the Vytal Festival and I can’t get a refund.’

‘That wasn’t a very smart move for someone in military intelligence, Smithy.’

‘I’m geo-spatial intelligence, sir. I tell you what the weather’s going to be like, not what terrorists are going to blow up this week.’

‘What _is_ the weather going to be like?’

‘I’ll make an educated guess that it’s still fucking hot.’

‘Then make another educated guess about your chances of going to Vytal.’

‘Sir, please, he’s already dead!’ A tall redhead was bent double with laughter.

‘I’m fairly sure Winter will send you to join him if you run up the camp flag the wrong way again, Tomkins.’

James was in a marginally better mood by the time he reached the camp’s tactical operations centre. The two guards on duty gave him a nod on approach, neither saluting due to the ever-present risk of White Fang snipers in the jungle beyond the walls. He had to go through three identity checks just to gain access, handprint, retinal scan and keycard. No exceptions could be made, especially with so many mimicry semblances out there.

The TOC was a three tiered bank of computer terminals in a half circle around a single large display. The night shift still hadn’t rotated, bleary-eyed staff officers glued to their screens and engaging in low, heated conversations.

The watchkeeper sat at the top, his feet on a desk and his head lolling back slightly as he fought a losing battle against exhaustion.

‘Morning, Bill,’ James dropped into the seat next to him. ‘Quiet night?’

Bill started in place, the junior captain almost falling backwards before James caught him. ‘Sir! Ah…morning briefing isn’t ready yet, sir.’

‘I’ll forgive you for a sip of that coffee.’ He eyed the steel mug resting on the edge of the desk with not a little greed. ‘And a quick update.’

Bill passed him the coffee. ‘It’s just plain with two raw sugars…’

‘That’s fine. I can’t really drink milk these days.’ James took a deep sniff, savouring the rich aroma of Atlas Black. ‘So, are we still winning?’

‘Patrol Base Falcon was probed, but they sent out a platoon and cleared the insurgents without casualties. Patrol Base Minotaur sent in a commando team to eliminate an Ursa pack that was threatening a local hamlet. An air patrol was engaged over TAOR Temple, but no casualties.’

‘Ah, a good night then.’

‘The S-Two shop believes Corsac Albain has returned from Menagerie after recovering from his wounds.’

‘That would put both Albains in the DZ then?’

‘Yes, sir. They want to double the reward on them. See if that can shake loose some informants.’

‘Approved.’ James took another sip. ‘What time did Winter and the Ace Ops go to bed?’

‘Well…’ Bill glanced at the briefing room.

‘They’re still in there?’

‘I think Specialist Bree tried to leave once.’ Bill coughed diplomatically. ‘Once.’

James shook his head. ‘I’d better break them up and send them to bed then. Thanks for the coffee.’

Bill nodded, turning back to his console. He would no doubt be hard at work for the next ten minutes until James was well out of sight. Everyone looked busy when the general was around.

‘Alright you lot.’ He entered the briefing room expecting to enter a warzone. ‘That’s enough…oh…’

Far from a warzone, it appeared he’d entered a nap room. Clover had claimed the main table, sprawled across it in an ungainly heap. Vine had arranged several of the chairs in a line, his thin body perfectly suited to the narrow bed he had created. Elm had claimed the couch, whilst Tortuga had comfortably wedged himself into a corner with Harriet’s head propped in his lap.

But where was…? He saw her out the corner of his eye. Winter was lying near the wall, her uniform jacket folded beneath her head as a pillow. Her hair had come loose from its bun, covering her face from the harsh lighting within the briefing room. She was shivering slightly in the chilly air-conditioning, face screwed tight as she hugged herself.

A moment later James retired from the briefing room sans his jacket. He flicked off the lights as he went.

‘Briefing room’s off limits for another two hours,’ he instructed Bill. ‘Have the mess send over enough breakfast for six, plus a plate for me. What’s the local time in Vale right now?’

‘Should be about three in the afternoon, I think.’

‘I’ll be on a call for the next hour then. No disturbances.’

‘Yes, sir,’ Bill turned back to his desk, reaching for his mug…the mug that now rested in General Ironwood’s hand as he walked back to his office. ‘Awww….’

\---------------------------------

There’d once been a feast on Menagerie. Blake still remembered it, even ten years later. It had been thrown to celebrate the Mistral Assembly granting them the charter to establish settlements in the southern regions. Badly needed farmland. Room to grow beyond Menagerie’s cramped shores. An end to the risk of overfishing.

Dad had been so happy he could barely stop dancing with Mom long enough to preside over the festivities. Sienna had held Blake’s hand as they walked from cookfire to cookfire, Blake’s plate piling higher and higher as the White Fang’s fighters chuckled and patted her ears.

Salmon, tuna, crab, lobster, octopus and fresh caviar. Fruit salad, coconut pie with fresh cream, and thick slices of heavy chocolate cake. Her stomach had been so full she could barely walk, needing Dad to carry her back to their cabin where she’d fallen asleep tucked between him and Mom. She’d never thought she could feel so full ever again.

That was before she met Ruby’s dad.

Crispy thick cut bacon, chili and paprika fried eggs, a spinach and kale mix sprinkled with pine nuts that she couldn’t quite get enough of. Smoked salmon on sourdough toast liberally spread with avocado. Fresh baked scones with cream and homemade jam. Mushrooms fried with garlic, sausages in chilli jam, juice squeezed at the table and an ocean of tea and coffee.

There had been enough food at the Xiao Long table to feed a small army. Or twelve huntsmen and huntresses-in-training and one dog. She didn’t know who was more stuffed. Her or Zwei.

‘You’re not getting out of all your makeup classes,’ Tai said.

‘I know, Dad.’

‘And you still have to call me once a week. Actually, make that twice now.’

‘I know, Dad.’

‘And you’re still not allowed to drive Zippy.’

‘Awwww.’

Tai pressed a kiss to the top of her head. ‘I love you. Be safe.’

Ruby and Yang both hugged him back, the three of them locked together for a long moment.

Jaune cleared his throat from the top of the ramp. ‘Hey guys, the ferry staff are starting to look…’

‘Right, right!’ Tai dashed his forearm across his face. ‘Get back out there kids. And if you see Roman Torchwick…’

‘Run the other way as fast as possible,’ the twelve of them said in unison.

Ruby stayed on the back deck with Blake as the ferry pulled away from the dock. Mr. Xiao Long stood there for a long time, waving after them. Mom had once waved Blake and Dad goodbye the same way, blowing kisses at them as they sailed for Southern Mistral. Blake didn’t let the memories of their eventual return escape from where she had locked them.

Happy barking followed by giggles from Penny and Weiss. Well, why dwell on old nightmares when there was a new one sitting right there?

‘And he’ll be able to stay with us in the dorms?’ Weiss ruffled the corgi’s fur, then giving an un-ladylike squeal of delight as he rolled over to present his belly.

‘Sure will,’ Yang said proudly. ‘Dad gave Professor Oobleck a call and got us permission. Zwei’s specially trained as a support dog for huntsmen. Has his aura unlocked, can fight minor Grimm on his own and guard a camp without the need for a sentry.’

‘My father’s senior bodyguard has two dogs…they must do something similar.’ Weiss gave another giggle as Zwei licked at her nose. ‘Who’s a good little Grimm killer? Who is? It’s you! Yes it is you! Good boy.’

‘I didn’t know you liked dogs.’ Pyrrha smiled from her seat. ‘Did you play often with them?’

‘Well, no. Whitley did but then Father…’ Weiss paused. ‘Anyway, I think it’s only fair that we schedule who will take him for walks in the mornings and evenings. I am happy to volunteer for extra shifts. For the good of the team, of course.’

‘Of course.’ Jaune’s grin didn’t go unnoticed. Rather than pout at his teasing, Weiss’ own smile took on a devious edge.

‘Perhaps you should take the afternoon shift, Jaune? I’ve read that women seem to like men who are good with kids and dogs. Perhaps it’s not too late to get you a dance for the Vytal Festival?’

Jaune spluttered indignantly. ‘I…I can get a dance without a dog’s help. Right, Pyrrha?’

‘…right…’

‘What was the pause for?’

‘Maybe walking the dog wouldn’t hurt?’

A tiny smile played over Blake’s lips as Sun and Neptune bent double in hysterics. Even Ciel tittered at Jaune’s pout, whilst Penny just watched things proceed in a strange expression that was almost an imitation of amusement rather than the real thing. Strangely human behaviour from members of a kingdom she’d come to loathe.

The huntress in the green hood had laughed as well before she killed Dad.

The smile vanished, replaced by a scowl as she moved back to the stern. Patch was already a smudge on the horizon. In a few minutes the Vale docks would be beneath them. Her own brush with mortality at the hands of a smiling huntress. Ruby’s face…her grin had been as vicious as a shark wrapping its teeth around a surfer…

‘Hey.’

Speak of the God of Darkness and she appeared.

‘Ruby.’ Blake nodded tightly at her. She tried not to flinch or look away as those terrible red eyes bored into her. Right now they were relaxed and cheerful. Blake had seen them filled with bloodlust the second before her world erupted in pain…

‘Thanks for coming all this way,’ Ruby said. Blake didn’t know if her control of her own body language was that good, or if Ruby just flat out didn’t notice. ‘You coming as well…I mean, I know you like to spend your weekends dancing.’

‘That’s me,’ Blake smiled through gritted teeth. ‘Party girl to the bone.’

‘And I know we’re not that close…’

_Any closer and you would have carved open my aortic valve._

‘…but that almost meant more to me than…well, all of them. They’re my friends but you…I can trust you to be objective.’ Ruby paused for a few moments. ‘Not that I mean you’re not my friend! I mean…’

‘I get it,’ Blake said quickly. ‘You don’t need to say anything.’

‘I…I think I do. Yang said that you were against trying to get me to come back to Beacon.’

‘I just wanted you to make your own decisions. It wasn’t…’

‘You were the one to point out how blind I was being though.’ Ruby nodded toward the approaching harbour. ‘Look, you can see the coastal defence batteries from here. One-five-five millimetre howitzers and torpedo launchers for sea-based Grimm, eighty eight millimetre flak cannon for air attacks. All of it made in Atlas. All of it designed for fighting Grim but…you could easily use it to fight humans as well. Just like a huntress.’

Blake swallowed. ‘Yeah…just like.’

‘Your dad…’ Ruby bit her lip. ‘He was killed by a rogue huntsman, wasn’t he?’

‘Yeah.’ It was a quarter true. Blake very much doubted that huntress had been rogue. She could have been an Atlas specialist on leave, taking time off to fill her personal accounts.

‘You must have thought I was being silly,’ Ruby said. ‘Being so upset about…well. I mean, I didn’t realise till now that you must have wanted to come to Beacon so you could learn to fight against rogue hunters. Like that girl.’

Blake didn’t trust herself to answer. She just stared back down at the water. Ruby seemed to take that as a yes.

‘I just wanted you to know that I won’t collapse like this again. I…I don’t _want_ to fight other people. But if I need to fight criminals like Torchwick or the White Fang or…or Raven Branwen, then I will. I won’t enjoy it, but I’ll never turn my back like that again.’

‘I know you won’t,’ Blake murmured. She’d seen fighters run before. Knew the look of shame in their eyes. They were always the ones who threw themselves into the thickest of the fighting on the very next engagement, trying to drown their dishonour in blood.

Ruby beamed at the compliment. Blake stiffened as Ruby threw her long arms around her.

‘You’re strange,’ Ruby said fondly. ‘But you’re not so bad. I don’t know if you think of me as a friend but…I want to be yours.’

Over Ruby’s shoulder, Blake could see Yang and Nora smiling at the scene. Something angry flared in her chest. Gods, what was with these people? Could she not get any peace? Not a single moment’s rest from their constant, nauseating insistence on being friends? As if any of them would hesitate to cut her down the second they found out who she really was. _What_ she really was.

They had good intentions. Fine. Maybe some of them might even live up to the promise of the huntsmen academies. But that didn’t change that they were her natural enemies. No matter how good it felt to see a gleam of respect in Ren’s eye, or to have Weiss take her hand. Peace offerings, kind gestures, apologies. She’d seen them all before. From Mistral. From Atlas and Vale. Trying to soothe Menagerie. Trying to smooth out relations between humans and faunus. Offers of friendship that would only last until the next time Menagerie wanted more than what humanity felt was their due.

‘If you do want to be my friend, Ruby, then can you do something for me?’

‘Sure?’

‘Keep your sister off my back.’

Ruby’s smile faded a little. ‘But I thought…?’

Blake cut her off. ‘I’m glad you’re coming back to Beacon.’ Not technically a lie. ‘And I’m glad you’ve gotten over your little tantrum.’ She did her best to ignore how Ruby flinched at the condescension in the word. ‘But I’m not here to be friends with any of you. That hasn’t changed. I have my interests that I like to pursue in my own time. I don’t interfere with your sister or any of you, I expect the same respect in return.’

‘But…maybe we could hang out more together? You like dancing and Yang likes dancing, so maybe we could all…’

‘I go dancing by myself to get away from Beacon for a little bit.’ Blake kept her expression fiercely neutral. ‘I don’t need it following me around. I need my privacy respected. That’s all I want.’

Ruby opened her mouth and shut it just as fast. Her smile was gone now. ‘Alright. I…I’ll speak to Yang. I’ll make sure everyone knows. If you really want to be left alone…’

‘I do.’ Blake nodded. ‘Will that be all?’

‘Uh, yeah…I guess.’

Blake turned and walked toward the stairwell for the lower deck. If she was lucky, she could dodge any more stupid…

‘Bella?’

_Wish rejected._

‘Yes?’

‘I’m still grateful that you came,’ Ruby said. ‘And I meant what I said.’

Blake glanced back at her. It would be so easy to recant. To let them all think better of her. Accept their peace offerings. Try to build the friendships that they seemed to want.

_‘No matter what friends you make, remember this. You are there to learn how to kill huntresses.’_

‘So did I,’ Blake said.

She made her way down the stairs, brushing past a short girl with green eyes on her way up them. At the bottom she could see Team Snowcap standing with Ren and Nora. They must have come downstairs during her conversation with Ruby. Sun was passing something to Nora, a tiny data-wafer barely bigger than his thumb.

‘…freshly encrypted by Penny,’ he was saying. ‘Fifteen hundred at the usual location.’

‘Thanks guys,’ Nora said. ‘I really don’t know how we’d do things without you.’

‘It’s not a problem.’ Sun nodded respectfully. ‘Part of why we’re here is…’

‘Oh hello, friend-Bella!’ Penny said loudly. ‘Now that we have all reconciled, shall we go out for a team dinner at…’

‘I’m not your friend, _Atlesian_ ,’ Bella couldn’t contain the venom in the word. She pushed past the ginger girl without a second thought, wincing at the surprising weight of the girl’s shoulder against her own.

‘Roger,’ Penny said. ‘Have a good evening, acquaintance-Bella.’

Blake didn’t stop to correct her, or to bandy words with the rest of them. Her patience had been stretched enough for one day. She didn’t need to waste what little she had left on Atlas lackeys.

But she didn’t miss the wounded expression on Nora’s face. Or the attempted movement of her arm behind her back to conceal the data-wafer Sun had passed to her.

\----------------------------------

‘I thought we’d gotten through to her.’ Weiss slumped into her usual seat by the window. ‘What she said yesterday…she sounded like she really meant it.’

‘I thought so too.’ Yang didn’t look quite so defeated. Weiss wondered if she had expected it after all.

‘Maybe she did mean it?’ Pyrrha opined as she held open the doorway for Jaune and Ren to bring up the last of Ruby’s bags. ‘For a moment it seemed like she really wanted Ruby to come back to Beacon. And what she said about all of us doing good in the world…’

‘I wasn’t really expecting it,’ Yang admitted. ‘I didn’t know that she’d been paying such close attention to the local crime reports either. I never even thought to check those. Never thought that girl could have survived an injury like the one Ruby described.’

‘Maybe it wasn’t as deep as she thought?’ Weiss said. ‘It was the heat of battle. It might have been a flesh wound.’

‘Maybe…’ Yang trailed off. ‘But for Ruby to have a reaction like she did?’

It didn’t make sense to Weiss either. So little of it did. Bella opening up, then closing back down again so quickly was just…baffling. Weiss had hoped that she and Bella were alike in some ways, not willing to see just how… _good_ it was to let others in.

Yang ran a hand across her eyes, squeezing the bridge of her nose. ‘Honestly? I didn’t mean it when I apologised.’

Pyrrha gasped. ‘Yang! We all agreed it was wrong of you to make her feel like she was at fault for our injuries.’

‘Not that,’ Yang hastily corrected. ‘I meant that. But…she also wanted an apology for _invading_ her privacy. Like that was what she was most offended by, not me trying to…’

‘Guilt-trip her?’ Jaune suggested.

Yang scowled, but didn’t disagree. ‘And…I get it, I like my personal space as well. But it doesn’t feel like she was this intense about it at the start of the year. She was reserved, yeah. Quiet. Didn’t say much unless it was slagging off Weiss. But she ate with us. Spent time with us. I thought we were building something. I don’t know…was it something we did, maybe?’

‘Peach did say you should look inward before placing the blame outwards…’ Weiss pondered the question a moment longer. ‘I just don’t know. Perhaps there’s something in her past? Maybe she’s afraid of building relationships? She did grow up in Mistral…’

Pyrrha frowned anxiously. ‘Mistral can be a lawless place in some regions. Bandits. Rogue militias. If it’s true what she told Ruby about a rogue huntsman killing her father then that might explain why she’s so unwilling to open up to anyone.’

‘I know she wants her privacy, but…’ Weiss bit her lip as she fiddled with her skirt. ‘Shouldn’t we try and find out more? Maybe we could help her?’

‘It’s what my mother would have done,’ Yang murmured. ‘She got through to my Uncle Qrow and…well, she got through to her team. I can’t believe Bella’s worse than them.’

Jaune paused from where he was helping Ren unload Ruby’s hair care products onto her portion of the team’s shelves. ‘Can’t believe I’m the one that has to say this, but growing up with seven sisters makes me say that intruding on a girl’s privacy doesn’t really end well. But…turning a blind eye when we think she’s having real problems isn’t an option either.’

‘Her actions don’t line up,’ Weiss said. ‘People who are cold stay cold. They don’t bounce between like this unless something is wrong. I’ve noticed it too many times now. She’ll open up. She’ll show something. Maybe a smile, maybe a tear. And then the second it feels like you’re making _some_ kind of connection, she slams everything shut again.’

Nora sighed from where she’d collapsed on Pyrrha’s bed. ‘I hate it when stuff like this happens. Why can’t we just enjoy school without all this…this… _stuff_?’

‘It’s a blessing and a curse to live in interesting times,’ Ren said, wedging the last of Ruby’s comic books onto the shelf. ‘Speaking of time…’

Nora’s eyes shot open. Her eyes shot to her watch. ‘Two-fifty…oh hell, I’m gonna be…nevermind, thanks Ren!’

She bolted for the door, vanishing down the corridor with a heavy thud of her boots. Eyes swivelled to Ren, but he simply smiled bashfully.

‘It’s a long story,’ he said. ‘Now then, should we tell Ruby about this? Snowcap?’

Yang shook her head. ‘Let’s keep it to ourselves for now. Let Ruby settle back in. She’ll still be nervous about being back.’

‘And not Snowcap, either,’ Weiss said. ‘She doesn’t like them anymore than me. I wonder if its because she’s from Mistral? Some of them still dislike Atlas for Mantle leading them to defeat in the Great War.’

‘The Great War’s been over for eighty years.’ The incredulity in Jaune’s tone was a match for the quirk in Yang’s brow. ‘Nearly everyone who fought in it is dead. Who could still be holding a grudge after all this time?’

Ren gave a resigned shrug. ‘You’d be surprised. The smaller the mind, the less open they are to letting go of old enemies.’

The conversation began to meander into history and politics as they continued unpacking. None of them noticed the shadow slipping past the doorway and following Nora toward the North Wing.

\--------------------------

Blake’s heart pounded. Her ears were flat on her head beneath her beanie. Her scar ached from shoulder to hip. Her feet stumbled a little and she bumped into several people on her way down the corridor.

 _They knew_. Or maybe they didn’t know, but they suspected more than they should. More than she ever should have allowed.

_‘Tell them exactly as much truth as you need.’_

She thought she had. She’d let slip vague truths about her childhood in Mistral (only a few years, but enough to make her accent convincing), the death of her father, the presence of loved ones in the Disputed Zone. She had kept them at arm’s length. Pushing back. Driving them off.

And in one moment of miscalculation she had scuppered it all. She’d needed Ruby not to go to Atlas, not to lend that brain of hers to the might of their army. A mind that could devise a weapon like Crescent Rose was not something the White Fang could afford to let Atlas have.

So she’d spoken against it. She’d let too much show. She’d done far worse than turn the others against her. She’d made them _curious_. Once they started asking questions, the _real_ questions…

No. _No_. She was being foolish. Overestimating them. Building them up. Her lies had protected her this far. Her identity had held up. And she still had a mission to do. Sienna was counting on her. All of the White Fang was counting on her. She couldn’t just abandon her post.

So she followed Nora. To be more accurate, she followed the data-wafer, the _encrypted_ data wafer that Sun, the race traitor, had given to Nora. Snowcap was an Atlas team, and therefore they were Atlas military. And Nora had _some_ kind of connection with them.

Blake needed to find it. If only to take her mind off things.

The North Wing held the majority of the main lecture theatres for Beacon, but Nora didn’t head toward them. Instead, she went for a small tutorial room close to the main fourth year lecture room. As far as Blake knew, the first year had never had a class in there.

Nora took a quick glance around before she went inside. It wasn’t enough for her to detect Blake, but it was another out of character moment for the girl. Blake would be the first to admit that she didn’t know Nora Valkyrie well, but subtle and mysterious the girl was not.

She waited for five minutes, but Nora didn’t leave. So she wasn’t retrieving anything. What, then? What could possibly be on that data-wafer? Did it unlock something? Something that Nora could only access in that room? Fifteen hundred at the usual location, Sun had said. It was three o’clock in the afternoon, fifteen hundred in twenty four hour time.

Blake knew she wouldn’t learn anything out here. At any other time she might have withdrawn, secured some spy bugs and planted them in anticipation of Nora’s next visit.

She might not have that long.

Blake tested the lock. It was open. Part of her wanted to scream at the rank amateurism of it. She could rule out ‘Atlas Spy’ as Nora’s secret. She clearly didn’t have the tradecraft for intelligence work.

She opened the door quietly, slipping in without making a noise. The room was darkened except for the glow of a computer screen. Nora was seated in front of it, animatedly chatting to it. More specifically, chatting to the smiling image of a man on the other end of a vid-call.

‘…and then Bella stood up and gave this _amazing_ speech about how the good guys need to fight the bad guys and I was kind of teary, then Ruby said she was coming back so Mr. Xiao Long made us all make pizza.’

 _‘That sounds wonderful,’_ the man chuckled. _‘So I shouldn’t expect Miss Rose to join the esteemed ranks of Doctor Polendina’s research team?’_

Nora snorted. ‘The esteemed ranks of his coffee slaves, you mean? She’s come back to Beacon but…Bella is back to being mean, so…’

_‘Give her time, honey. I’ve served under men I despised and commanded men who hated me, but time had a way of making us comrades.’_

‘I know,’ she sighed. ‘Kill ‘em with kindness whenever you can.’

 _‘That’s my Nora,’_ the fondness in the man’s voice was unmistakeable. _‘It’s good to see your face again. Things out here have been…busy.’_

Nora’s shoulders slumped. ‘It sounds like you’re going to tell me something I don’t want to hear.’

 _‘I can’t take the time off to come to the dance,_ ’ the man said. _‘Not with the situation how it is.’_

‘But that’s what you _always_ say. There’s always a situation or a mission that needs you.’

 _‘I’m sorry, darling,’_ the man sighed. _‘But with the White Fang so active, I can’t just tell my men I’m flying to Vale when some of them won’t see their own families for another six months.’_

White Fang…Blake stifled a gasp as it clicked. She hadn’t recognised him at first. Normally, the man on the screen was clad in an immaculate white uniform, his thick hair slicked back and cut neatly on the sides. Now he wore a green military undershirt, his muscles straining against the material, and his hair had grown out and was swept to the side.

There was no mistaking, however, the bright, clear blue of his eyes. The sharp outline of his jaw, and the high, elegant cheekbones. His lips, so often drawn back in a charming smile for the cameras, were fixed now in a fond, but weary grin as he looked up at Nora Valkyrie.

It was a face Blake had stared at often in various target packs. Hoping. Praying for the day that she would look at that face from behind the sights of a rifle.

General James Ironwood was vid-chatting with Nora Valkyrie. About a dance.

_‘Maybe we can organise a trip for your winter break after things settle down here? Just you and me, climbing out at Mount Solitary.’_

Nora didn’t sound enthused. ‘You promised we’d go on that trip last year…’

_‘I know, but this time I…’_

_‘Sir!’_ A woman’s voice sounded off camera. _‘You’re needed in the TOC!’_

_‘Now? But what could…?’_

_‘Sienna Khan is making a broadcast, sir!’_

_‘I’ll be right there. Nora, I’m sorry I can’t…’_

‘It’s fine,’ Nora said. She waved at him slowly. ‘Go save the day.’

_‘I love you, darling.’_

‘I love y-…’ Nora was cut off by the vid-chat ending. Her head sagged. ‘I love you too.’

Turning off the terminal, Nora quickly stood and extracted the data wafer from behind it. Wiping her sleeve across her face, she turned toward the door.

And came face to face with a stunned Blake standing several paces behind her.

‘Bella! You…what are you _doing_ here?’

‘I’m…I just wondered in,’ Blake stuttered out the words. ‘You didn’t look the door.’

‘I didn’t…oh no…oh _no…_ ’ Nora grabbed her head. ‘No, he’s going to be so mad. No one’s meant to know…’

‘Nora, what did I just…was that General _Ironwood_?’ Blake took a step back as Nora surged forward, her hands planted either side of Blake as she backed her against the wall.

‘You can’t tell anyone,’ Nora babbled. ‘It’s meant to be a secret. Well, not a secret, but _need to know_ until things have settled down in Mistral. I’m not supposed to tell anyone. Please please please, you can’t tell anyone either, please!’

‘That you’re…General Ironwood’s lover?’ Blake’s face wrinkled in distaste.

Nora turned a horrific shade of green. ‘What? No! Nononononono! I’m not…he’s not…I’m his _daughter!_ ’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blake's tsundere act has finally caught up with her. Weiss is determined to make all the friends and not even Blake shall stand in the way of her making Blake her friend.
> 
> And behold, I finally introduce the third parent. Including my Nora Valkyrie-Ironwood headcanon wasn't initially intended when I set out to write this story (but then again, neither was White Fang Blake or Atlas student Sun). Part of it was so I finally had a compelling reason to write more Nora (otherwise she was going to play a backseat role) and the other half was so that I could play a bit more with Rule of Three symbolism. One good parent in Tai, one terrible parent in Raven, and one that's honestly trying his best but isn't quite getting there with Ironwood.


	17. 'the girl with a golden bow'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blake strikes a bargain with Nora in order to protect both their secrets. Roman seeks to tie up loose ends and Cinder introduces the final member of Team CESM. With the White Fang gaining ground, the Ace Operatives propose a daring raid behind enemy lines.

_Nora felt Ren’s arms tighten around her as another gunshot rang above them. The other children whimpered and cried as more gunshots were accompanied by bloodcurdling screams. The guards on the cages had long since gone upstairs when the shooting started._

_She shed no more tears, nor did Ren. Part of it was his semblance, wrapping around them like a cloak that kept the fear and worry at bay. The rest of it was feeling too tired. She’d cried herself out sometime after the third week crammed into the cage with Ren and half a dozen others._

_There were three other cages just as large as theirs. Not all of them had children crammed in. One was full of young women, another full of young men, a third crammed full with faunus of both sexes._

_They were fed twice a day. Given a pail of water to share between them. A few straw pillows and threadbare blankets were shared as best they could. Ren had already fought off some of the bigger kids who tried to take theirs._

_‘Please!’ Someone screamed from upstairs. ‘Please, I surrender! I surrender! Mercy! Merc-agghghhh…’ The plea ended with a series of sickening thumps and cracks._

_‘Gang war,’ someone whispered. ‘It’s not a huntsman…we’re just changing hands…’_

_The words prompted a fresh wave of moans and weeping. Nora burrowed deeper into Ren’s arms. Whatever happened, they would be together. That would be alright. It would all be alright._

_The door above the stairs was flung open. Two final gunshots had her clutching her ears, the ringing drowning out the screams. Footsteps thudded on the steps, one unnaturally heavier than the other._

_Nora peaked over Ren’s shoulder, gazing at the stairs to look at their new owner. It was hard to get a proper view of him. He was covered from head to toe in blood, whatever colour his suit had previous been now drenched in bright scarlet._

_Black hair and a thick beard were visible through the blood staining his face. His eyes were coated in shadow, not reflecting the light._

_‘I’m looking for a girl.’ His voice was empty of emotion. No rage. No pity. A blank slate. ‘A girl called Nora.’_

_Ren held her tighter, edging toward the back of the cage._

_‘I won’t let him take you,’ he whispered fiercely. ‘I’ll fight him…’_

_‘I am looking for a girl called Nora,’ the man said again. ‘The rest of you will be free to go when I find her.’_

_Free to go…that meant Ren would be free as well…_

_‘A girl called Nora,’ the man repeated. ‘She has red hair and blue eyes. I have…I have come a very long way to find her.’_

_‘I’m here!’ Nora shoved Ren backwards. He gave a panicked cry and tried to grab her again, but she dodged him. He’d be able to leave. Be free. That would be enough for her. ‘I’m Nora!’_

_She shoved her way past the other kids to the door of the cage, setting her jaw and balling her fists. ‘I’m here. Let everyone else go.’_

_The man loomed above her, bowing his head slightly to avoid bumping it on the ceiling. His right hand, which didn’t seem like a hand at all but a gleaming silver claw, reached forward and snapped the lock open._

_‘You are Nora?’_

_She didn’t trust herself to speak, so she just nodded. There was a cry behind her and suddenly Ren was there again. He hurled himself at the man, beating at his legs with tiny fists._

_‘Leaver her alone!’ He yelled. ‘Nora, run!’_

_‘Please…don’t run…’ the man’s voice was hoarse._

_He fell to his knees. Even lowered, his head still rose above both of them. A glimmer of light reappeared in his eyes. ‘My name…my name…I’m James. I’m your father, Nora.’_

_His voice cracked. ‘I’m going to take you somewhere warm and…and clean.’_

_Nora nodded slowly. She wasn’t quite sure who this man was. He said he was her father but…Mama had always said Nora had been born in a flash of lightning on a clear day. Still…he didn’t seem quite so scary now that he was crying. His eyes were nicer, too. Reaching up, she began to use his tears to clean off his face with the edge of her shirt._

_When she had finished, he looked…well, not normal, but much better. Not quite so scary._

_‘You’re not a monster,’ she said, somewhat satisfied by her conclusion._

_Nora didn’t know why that made him double over, clutching his stomach as he sobbed. She patted him on the head, somewhat baffled but not entirely upset by this new development. Ren looked quite perplexed, as did the majority of the other occupants of the cages as the small girl continued to pat the blood-soaked man on his head._

_Nora decided to test the waters. ‘Could we have some food?’_

_‘Food?’ The man looked up. ‘Yes…whatever you want.’_

_Whatever she wanted? That sounded very nice. ‘And…some new clothes?’_

_The man nodded furiously. Nora couldn’t help but smile at his eagerness._

_‘Could I…could I have a dress as well?’_

_‘I’ll get you a whole wardrobe full of dresses.’_

_That sounded wonderful…but… ‘I’m not going anywhere without Ren.’_

_‘Ren?’_

_‘That’s me,’ Ren said._

_The man nodded. ‘Of course. Ren can come too. Anyone else…?’_

_‘No, just Ren.’ Nora looked back at the cages. ‘But…can you let everyone out of their cages? You don’t need to give them dresses but…’_

_‘James!’ There were boots on the stairs. A lean man in a tattered cape appeared, a bloodied broadsword in his hands. ‘James, where are you? What are you…oh hells…’_

_‘I found her, Qrow.’ The man said. Nora didn’t object as he picked her up in one arm and Ren in the other. ‘I’m going to take them home.’_

_‘Right…you should do that…’ The thin one said carefully. ‘Uh…hey, Peach?’_

_A woman appeared at the top of the stairs, almost as bloodstained as the man currently holding Nora. She looked down at the cages, eyes narrowing as her lip curled._

_‘Peach…help Jimmy get the munchkins back to the hotel. I’ll sort all of this out.’_

_‘Right.’ The woman coughed at the stink coming off the unwashed bodies. ‘Let’s get the little darlings washed up. James, why don’t you give me…’_

_‘They stay with me,’ the man growled. ‘Both of them. They’re my responsibility.’_

_‘Alright, alright,’ the woman soothed. ‘Just…get them to shut their eyes, alright? There’s a bit of a mess upstairs.’_

_Nora and Ren both complied, keeping their eyes shut tight despite the sickening groans and squelches. Nora found herself relaxing as they stepped out into the rain, the blood and dirt washing off her as she snuggled deeper into the tall man’s shoulder._

_She felt quite safe._

\--------------------------------

‘You can’t tell anyone,’ Nora repeated. ‘Only Ren knows. Him and Snowcap. And Professor Ozpin. And Miss Goodwitch, Professor Peach…ok, a couple of people know. But you can’t let anyone else know.’

Blake continued to stare at Nora with a growing sense of unreality. It was fairly common knowledge that General Ironwood had a daughter who he kept out of the public eye. As the most powerful man in Atlas he had the ability to keep her name and image out of the media. Blake had always assumed that said daughter would be the shy, retiring kind. A pampered princess kept in the shining towers of Atlas away from the commoners below.

Not, well…Nora.

‘But…why are you here?’ Blake said. ‘Shouldn’t you be in Atlas? Wouldn’t you be safer there?’

‘Yeah, sure,’ Nora rolled her eyes. ‘With every teacher and student blowing wind up my skirt to get on Dad’s good side. ‘Really, Bella? Sheesh.’

‘So you came to Vale to what…spread your wings?’

‘I’m also meant to help improve international relations.’ There was a proud note to Nora’s voice. ‘Ren and I are ambassadors for Atlas. We trained under the Ace Operatives, and our weapons are top of the line Atlas tech. But that’s why it’s so important that no one know we’re from Atlas. Dad wanted us to keep it secret until the Vytal Festival so that we could make friends and allies on our own merits.’

 _And then spring it on the world that two of Beacon’s best students were actually Atlas elite._ Such a plan was obvious enough for Ironwood. The man was renowned for being a cold-blooded strategist, no wonder he would exploit his own daughter in such a fashion. Blake almost felt sorry for the girl in front of her. Almost.

‘So it was all a lie?’ Blake couldn’t keep the chill from her voice. ‘You and Ren weren’t orphans then. You didn’t grow up in a Mistral orphanage, you didn’t…’

‘We _were_ , I mean…Ren is an orphan. That part is true.’ Nora glanced away, awkwardly fidgeting with her rings. ‘We were seven when Dad found us. He took us back to Atlas.’

 _Where you’ve lived in the lap of luxury ever since._ Blake’s contempt didn’t diminish. ‘I guess Weiss wasn’t the only Atlas princess in the group.’

Nora flinched. ‘That’s not fair. I had to earn my place here just like you did.’

‘I’m sure the top-of-the line combat training and high-grade equipment didn’t hurt your chances.’

Nora bit her lip. She clearly wasn’t used to verbal exchanges like this. Things were beginning to click in Blake’s head. The unexplained familiarity with the Schnee family history, the lack of respect for personal space and boundaries, the extravagant gifts like the Playscroll Plus she’d bought for the common room. Hells…not even _Weiss_ was as free and easy with her money as Nora was. Such a confusing attitude for a girl who had apparently grown up as a penniless orphan.

‘I don’t know why you’re being like this.’ Nora stepped back. ‘Is it because I’m from Atlas? You’re from Mistral, shouldn’t we be allies? Shouldn’t we…’

Blake couldn’t handle it any more. Not one more second. Rage swelling in her chest, she reached up and ripped off her beanie. Her ears stood up straight, her teeth bared in a challenge.

‘Atlas _isn’t_ my ally,’ she snarled. ‘Not Sun Wukong. Not Weiss _Schnee._ And certainly not Nora _Ironwood_.’

‘You’re…you’re a faunus?’ Nora said weakly.

‘Last I checked.’

‘But…but Dad’s _helped_ the faunus in Atlas. He repealed the regulations that prohibited faunus from joining the military or attending the Academy!’

‘Wonderful.’ Blake folded her arms. ‘So faunus now have the right to bleed and die so the Atlas elite can grow even fatter?’

Nora flinched, hugging herself as Blake loomed over her. ‘I…I don’t know…’

‘Don’t know what? What your people are responsible for? What your _father_ is responsible for?’

Nora’s head shot up, her eyes flashing. ‘My father is a good man!’

‘And mine was a _great_ man! And Atlas murdered him!’ It slipped out too fast. Much too fast. Blake slapped her hand over her mouth, but the damage was done.

‘Killed…’ Nora’s eyes widened. ‘Was your father White Fang?’

Blake didn’t answer. She searched for something. Some lie that might save her. For the first time since she’d met her, Nora’s brain worked faster.

‘Bella...like Belladonna? Like _Ghira_ Belladonna?’ Nora, to her credit, didn’t seem afraid. Just stunned. ‘But he wasn’t killed by Atlas. Rogue militias…the Hidden Valley Brigade…Dad arrested the leaders five years ago!’

‘I was there,’ Blake said coldly. ‘I watched an Atlas huntress murder my father in cold blood.’

‘You’re…you’re Blake Belladonna…’ Nora trailed off. ‘I…I heard your name mentioned. But you disappeared years ago. Mister Clover said you might have become a child soldier…’

‘Yes.’ Blake rolled her eyes. ‘Because the White Fang were so desperate for manpower that they allowed a twelve year old to join their ranks.’

They were and they had. Nevertheless, Nora blushed at having made such a rash assumption. ‘Then…?’

‘I was hidden after my father’s assassination.’ Not technically untrue. ‘There were fears that as his heir I would be targeted for death. Or worse, abduction to Atlas or Vale.’

‘But they wouldn’t have…’

‘No?’ Blake forced out a bark of laughter. ‘So you’re saying that Vale or Atlas _wouldn’t_ have compassionately taken in the daughter of Ghira and Chandra Belladonna now that one was dead and the other so mentally fragile after her husband’s murder?’

‘Dad would never have done that!’

‘Then you’re more naïve than I thought.’ It wasn’t hard to fake the dismissive tone, but it was harder than expected to keep it up as Nora blinked back sudden tears. ‘I’m sure it would been phrased very nicely. The kindly General Ironwood taking in the poor little princess from Menagerie, raising her as his ward next to his own daughter. Such a nice man. So generous to the faunus. But I would have been just another type of hostage.’

‘I…’

‘Anyway it doesn’t matter now.’ Blake gave a tired sigh. ‘My mother had me hidden away from Atlas, Vale and the White Fang.’

If Nora had looked stunned and upset before, now she looked thoroughly perplexed. ‘Why would you need to be hidden away from the White Fang?’

‘So they couldn’t use me for propaganda. Do you think a woman like Sienna Khan would have hesitated to use the Belladonna heiress for recruitment?’

_No, because she’s a good person. But you wouldn’t know that._

‘I guess…’ Nora looked calmer now. She was starting to rationalise. Starting to connect the dots herself and congratulating for doing it on her own. ‘You’re like me. I mean…my dad sent me here to get me away from the media and your mom sent you here to get you away from terrorists. But…’

‘There are parallels.’ Blake made her tone agreeable, her face thoughtful. ‘I never thought I’d have anything in common with a girl from Atlas.’

‘So…where does that leave us?’

‘I’ll keep your secrets.’ Blake said. The relief on Nora’s face spread to the rest of her body and she sagged backwards, sinking onto the chair with a quiet gasp. ‘As long as you keep mine.’

Nora glanced away nervously. ‘Um…’

‘I don’t have any warrants on my name.’ Blake pushed forward. Everything depended on this. ‘It’s just for my safety. Same as yours. If you really think about it, don’t our parents want something similar for us? To be able to become huntresses on our own merits?’

‘R-right.’ She gave a quick nod. ‘I mean it’s even more important for you to stay secret, right? I’m just a general’s daughter. You’re like…an actual princess.’

‘Not quite, but it’s similar.’ Blake’s heart began to beat easier. With anyone else it might not have worked, but Nora was buying it.

Nora’s tongue darted out to moisten her lips. ‘But shouldn’t you at least let the rest of the team know? Maybe even JSPR? It would explain…’

‘Let them know I’m a faunus?’ Blake put the scornful note back in her voice and once more Nora flinched away. ‘Do you remember what Yang said when she saw Cardin pulling Velvet’s ears?’

Nora nodded miserably. ‘I remember.’

‘And did Yang _do_ anything about it?’

She shook her head.

‘I didn’t want anyone to know. Vale might claim it’s a tolerant kingdom, but that hasn’t stopped Cardin and others from picking on the faunus students here. Nora…please.’ _Just a little vulnerability. Just enough..._ ‘Please. You can’t tell anyone. Not Yang. Not Ren.’ _Not anyone smarter than you._

What would she even do if Nora said no? She could go to Cinder…no, that would come with its own price tag. Tukson, then. No matter how useless he’d been before, he had to have a bolthole she could use. Somewhere to hide before Ozpin package delivered her to Atlas in an airtight box.

‘I’ll do it.’ Nora’s voice cut off her planning just before she started on crossing Vacuo by foot. ‘I’ll keep your secret. And you’ll keep mine, right?’

‘Of course.’ Blake didn’t bother hiding her relief. Fennec Albain had always stressed that a little genuine emotion could help sell even the most fantastic of lies. ‘You can trust me.’

She held out her hand. Nora hesitated only a moment before taking it.

‘Now come on,’ Blake nodded toward the door. ‘People will be starting to miss us.’

Nora went first, chattering nervously as she led the way out into the corridor. Blake quickly sheathed her ring knife back up her sleeve and followed.

‘So…do you really go dancing on the weekends?’

‘No.’ Best to keep spinning extra layers to the lie now that she was committing to it. ‘I volunteer at a faunus shelter in town.’

‘Oh.’ Realisation dawned in her eyes. ‘But…Yang would get off your back if she knew that. She’d…’

‘I’m sure she would. But I don’t want her to know.’

Nora looked like she wanted to protest, but a sharp look cut her off. Blake knew she couldn’t delude herself as to Nora’s reliability. She’d have to keep a closer eye on the redhead from now on. Keep her in line by any means necessary until…until what? Until Sienna recalled her? When? When the war was over? What if…?

The buzzing of her scroll ended that line of thinking before it could spiral out of control. A quick glance revealed a blank profile picture. Great. All the message gave was a time. She could figure out the location well enough.

‘That’s them now,’ she lied. ‘Listen, I have to head in for a quick budget meeting. Tell the others that I’m just ducking out for some school supplies, alright?’

‘…alright.’ Nora’s grimace betrayed her reluctance, but she said nothing future. ‘What time will you be back?’

‘Early. Well before curfew,’ Blake reassured her. She gave Nora her most winning smile. ‘You’re the best, Nora.’

‘Yeah.’ Nora offered a wan grin. ‘That’s me.’

\--------------------------------

_‘…the second such base we have overrun. And, as before, we have chosen to spare the captives we have taken. They will be treated in accordance with the Treaty of Vytal, a demonstration of the White Fang’s commitment to upholding the common law even when Mistral does not. To General Ironwood I give this message: The White Fang now has fifty seven of your soldiers. You have captured one hundred and thirty two of mine. Let us not pretend we do not value their lives. For every three of my brethren that you release, I will in turn release one of yours.’_

‘How generous of her,’ Tortuga drawled. ‘Personally I think it’s a little racist to suggest that one Atlesian is worth three White Fang.’

 _But that’s exactly how everyone back in Atlas will see it_ , was what went unspoken. If they need to trade ten White Fang just to get back a single Atlesian then the average taxpayer would call it an acceptable offer.

On the screen, Sienna Khan looked down like royalty upon a throng. An impressive feat considering the aged jungle fatigues she wore and the dirty sweat matting her hair. But she had presence, Ironwood couldn’t deny that. Having to give speeches to the public was one of the worst parts of the job as far as he was concerned. Not just the writing and delivery, but putting up with the prep-team as they powdered his face and slicked back his hair.

Perhaps he should go with Sienna’s approach? There was something to be said for the authenticity, at least.

_‘Once again, we call for Atlas to end its illegal occupation of the Disputed Zone. I know you do not want to be here, General. Why would you? Every day you are risking Atlesian lives to make up for Mistralian mistakes. Take your troops and go home. We thank you for your attempts to disarm the Hidden Valley Brigade and the other criminals Mistral pretends it cannot control, but you yourself know that this is a fruitless task. Half the men you arrested five years ago served short sentences in comfortable prisons and once more returned to plague my people. Atlas cannot help here. It can only suffer trying to correct Mistral’s errors and for no gain. The White Fang will not surrender to Mistral’s proxy attempts to oust us from farmland that was fairly given. We know what we are owed and we will have our due. Take your army and go home, General. Do not waste Atlesian blood on Mistral lies.’_

‘That’s it,’ Bill said. ‘They tightbeamed it to the Menagerie relay tower again. No way to find the transmission site, and even there was…’

‘They would have moved immediately.’ James would have done the same thing in her shoes. ‘Have the analysts go over this till their eyes bleed. Any hints in the background of the shot, any audio cues, any particular shade of dust on her clothes. ‘She had to slip up somewhere.’

She really didn’t. But there was always a chance. Some breakthroughs came only on the slimmest of evidence. You always read about those in the history books, not the dozens of failures that preceded them.

James turned back to the Ace Ops. ‘Please tell me you’ve got something.’

Clover shrugged. ‘We’ve got…half of something?’

‘Captain…’

‘More than nothing, less than a full something?’

Winter cut him off before James could realistically assess the impact of demoting him. ‘We have something. But first…’

James sighed. ‘Breakfast and coffee are on the way.’

Ten minutes later, with the briefing room now wafting with coffee fragrance and Tortuga gently patting Harriet on the back to clear the muffin she’d tried to wolf down too quickly, James raised an expectant eye. Winter remained seated as Clover stood, a subtle indication that whatever plan had been hatched, Clover was likely responsible for it. James hid his flinch well. Winter’s plans always tended to be well thought out, well resourced and simple to execute.

It wasn’t that Clover’s plans were worse, they just…well, they’d clearly been thought up by a man with probability bending good fortune.

‘So, the main problem facing us is that we only have a general location for the camp. High level recon flights haven’t narrowed it down, so an airstrike is out of the question. We could air assault in with a commando company to cordon and search the vicinity, but since that’s also a White Fang training camp, casualties are likely to stack up quickly on both sides. We need to conduct a covert sweep of the area and then blow the cache in place. That means an infiltration with a small team.’

James shook his head. ‘Out of the question.’

‘Sir…’

‘This isn’t going to be a cross-border hop for a night raid, Clover. That is two hundred kilometres of Grimm-infested jungle. There are White Fang checkpoints on every road and patrols on the tracks.’

‘We won’t be going by road.’

‘Air? They’ll be watching the skies. There’s a reason our recon flights have to be at a high level.’

‘We’ll take the river down to the area.’

‘And get spotted by the first White Fang sympathiser? You’ll get cut off both ways and smoked out.’

‘Not if we have enough faunus with us to make it look like…’

‘How many faunus?’

‘Flax Scarlatina’s team, sir. Once we get close enough, they’ll escort me into the camp as a POW. Amid the celebrations of capturing an Ace Operative, the rest of the team will infiltrate the camp and place charges on the dust depot. As soon as it blows we’ll have Mantas on standby at high altitude to rapidly descend and extract the strike team.’

‘That’s it?’

‘There’s a few more details to work out, but I think that captures most of it.’

‘Let me get this straight, Captain,’ Ironwood leaned forward. ‘You want to take nine operatives two hundred kilometres behind enemy lines, pose as a prisoner to get yourself let into a White Fang training camp, blow up a heavily guarded dust depot and then exfil on Mantas. Mantas that will be running on fumes by that point.’

‘That _is_ a highly simplified version.’

‘But I’ve captured the bare essentials?’

‘…yes.’

‘No.’

‘But sir…’

‘Come on, Clover, it’s a death trap.’ Ironwood gestured at the map. ‘It’s less a military operation and more a recipe for a dessert. Miss one timing and the whole thing burns. Where are your redundancies? Your QRF? What’s your medevac plan? You know what I would say to a first year cadet if they came to me with this plan?’

‘Good effort?’

‘I’d tell them to reconsider their ambition to become a military officer. Something I’d say to you if I didn’t need you.’

‘So it’s outside the box…’

‘It looks like whoever came up with this never even saw the box. Which one of you came up with this, anyway? I’d prefer to know which of my Ace Operatives is a maniac posing as a rational human being.’

‘It was me, sir.’

Ironwood closed his eyes, a sense of profound weariness taking over him as he considered his next words. ‘Winter…I know you’re not in the habit of taking leave of your senses, but…’

‘Sir, current projections say that we’ll be sitting in the Disputed Zone for the next four months. Casualty rates in the hundreds on both sides. Double that from Grimm attacks. Huge losses in arable land. No guarantee that the White Fang will agree to terms. No viable exit strategy if they do not. Atlas footing the bill for Mistral’s mistakes. Every casualty we take decreases the public’s willingness to get involved. Every casualty the White Fang sustained is held up as a martyr.’

Ironwood folded his hands before him. ‘I’m listening.’

‘This raid, risky as it is, will cripple the White Fang. With any luck? It will succeed without a single enemy KIA. Without that dust, the White Fang cannot fight. Sienna Khan will come to the negotiating table.’

‘You sound very sure of that.’

‘I’ve read her work, sir,’ Winter tapped on Sienna’s profile picture. ‘What Khan wants more than anything else is a future for her people. Convince her that Atlas will guarantee Menagerie’s stake in the Disputed Zone and she’ll call for peace.’

‘And if she doesn’t.’

‘Then we’ll still have dealt a crippling blow to the White Fang’s warfighting capability.’ Winter folded her arms behind her back. ‘It’s worth the risk, sir.’

‘The risk of nine of our soldiers not coming home?’

‘Do you doubt our commitment to the cause, General?’ Tortuga said. ‘We’re all volunteers. If we held our lives so dearly, we wouldn’t have signed on the dotted line for this. I can tell you Flax will say the exact same thing. We’re soldiers. You give the order and we’ll get the job done.’

Vine, Elm and Harriet all grunted their agreement.

‘Brave words, Mr. Tortuga,’ Ironwood said. ‘And I do not doubt them or you. But you won’t be the one having to write nine letters if it goes wrong.’

Vine steepled his fingers. ‘Is it not more logical to write nine letters, sir, than hundreds?’

He didn’t trust himself to answer. Instead, he turned back to Clover.

‘Do you think Sienna Khan is stupid?’ James sighed when Clover didn’t answer. ‘That’s not a rhetorical question. Do you think she’s an idiot?’

Clover raised an eyebrow, but he answered the question anyway. ‘No, I don’t.’

‘That’s good, because she isn’t. Sienna Khan has a graduate degree in political science from the University of Vale and a huntress license from Shade Academy. She sat at Ghira Belladonna’s right hand for ten years. Travelled with him to every kingdom and watched. Saw how we did things. From what I hear, her library back on Menagerie has nothing in it but books on military theory and the auto-biographies of prominent Atlas generals. She has stayed one step ahead of us this entire time and now you want to go waltzing into her backyard?’

‘Sir, I…’

‘You’ve come up with some hare-brained schemes before, Clover, but this is…’

‘May I remind you again that this was equally my idea, sir?’

James’ eyes clicked back to Winter. His adjutant stared back calmly, eyes clear and crisp despite her slightly dishevelled appearance. Harriet was trying to mask a titter behind a hand, whilst Tortuga was making no effort to hide his grin in the slightest. James suddenly had the uncomfortably foolish feeling of a man caught in a perfectly planned ambush.

Clover and Winter both shared a quick smile at the disgust on their general’s face. Winter stood, leaning over the map to trace the outline of the winding river with her pointer.

‘It’s quite simple, sir. Khan thinks she has covered her bases. She thinks she has made getting at her or her vulnerable points all but impossible. That confidence will bleed down into the rank and file.’

‘And you think the Ace Ops can exploit that?’

‘I know we can, sir.’ Clover had dropped his grin. Deadly serious now, as he always got when the stakes ramped up beyond the point of good luck. ‘With preparation, a solid infil and exfil plan, a ton of rehearsals and just a little bit of improvisation…’

‘Clover…’

‘…it’s not a one hundred percent solution,’ Clover admitted. ‘But haven’t you always said that an adequate plan on time beats a perfect plan too late?’

‘Were you also listening when I said how I don’t like having my own words used against me?’

‘Give us a week, sir.’ Winter stepped in. ‘One week to gather the resources and people that we need. We’ll present a full plan and then you can make a final decision.’

‘Winter, the amount of resources this might take…’

‘But if it works, sir, then the White Fang could be neutralised in as little as _four_ weeks.’ Winter put a strange emphasis on the number. Innocuous, but there wasn’t a single operative in the room who didn’t know what she meant.

The Vytal Dance at Beacon was in five weeks.

Damn her. Damn them all.

‘You have one week, Winter.’ He tried not to soften as a round of smiles (and an almost-smile in Vine’s case) went around the room. ‘You have free rein. Whatever troops or resources you need. Come back to me with a complete plan and I’ll re-assess.’

‘Thank you…’

‘And if I say no, that is _final_ ,’ he warned. ‘Don’t expect me to let a half-assed plan through just because I want to see my daughter again.’

‘Wouldn’t dream of it, sir.’ Tortuga piped up. ‘We wouldn’t think of tempting you with a chilled glass of white wine back in Vale. An excellent twelve course menu at the Jolly Huntsman. The look of joy on your child’s face as you dance with her. The ravishing Miss Goodwitch smiling as you take her for a…’

Harriet slapped her hand over her partner’s face with a bland smile. ‘We’ll just get back to planning.’

\----------------------------------------

‘You idiot,’ Roman said.

Blake sighed. ‘Nice to see you too.’

‘You blithering idiot.’ Roman said again. ‘You feckless moron. You scatter-brained imbecile. You twit.’

‘You finished?’

‘I had “catgirl bimbo” down as well, but I couldn’t figure out if that was racially insensitive.’

‘It is.’

‘Okay, glad I left it out then.’ Roman jabbed a finger toward her. ‘My point, when all is said and done, is that you have done something so monumentally stupid that it makes all your prior acts of stupidity, including getting involved in a terrorist organisation as a teenager, look like a tech convention in Atlas.’

‘Which would be…?’

‘Oh, I don’t know…maybe inviting back the one person in Vale who can pick you out of a line up?’

‘Who, Ruby?’

‘No, the dog,’ Roman deadpanned. ‘Of course I meant Big Red!’

‘Okay, okay.’ Blake pressed a hand to her throbbing temple. ‘Can I at least get a drink before you start chewing me out?’

‘Are you even legal to drink yet?’ Roman’s raised eyebrow indicated his scepticism on the matter.

‘You, a criminal, are concerned about breaking this one particular law?’

‘Look, kid, amongst us professionals you get reputation for robbing rich bastards and killing the odd unsavoury bastard. Feeding drinks to minors is a good way to lose that reputation.’

Blake rolled her eyes. ‘Do you care about anything besides your reputation?’

‘I quite like my hat as well.’

‘Then you can rest easy. I’m legal to drink.’ She waited for him to turn around before she muttered: ‘In Menagerie.’

Roman moved back down into the common area of his safehouse. Not for the first time, Blake admired the décor whilst wrinkling her nose at the smell. The pool table was back, she noted, this time in blue felt. Even then it was enough to make her shudder.

‘Neo!’ Roman reached behind the bar and pulled out several bottles and a cocktail shaker. ‘You want a drink?’

A few moments later Neo popped out of a side room. She looked different. Her usual impish smile was missing, her face was slightly drained and she was wiping at her sleeves with an intense frown. Behind her, Blake caught a glimpse of thick plastic sheets wrapped around something bloody.

‘Is that…?’

Neo made a quick series of gestures. Roman winced. ‘Extra tequila in yours, then?’

Neo leaned up to peck him on the cheek. Roman patted her on the shoulder, steering her to one of the bar stools before serving her with a large margarita. Blake continued to stare at the back room as Roman set one in front of her.

‘What the hell was that?’

‘Oh that? Side business.’

‘There’s a dead body in there.’

Neo held up four fingers. Blake felt a twinge in her stomach. ‘You murdered four people as a side business?’

‘Only when we need a little extra cash,’ Roman reassured her. ‘You wouldn’t have been here for it, but last year a faunus boy got murdered by a couple of teenagers. Big scandal, especially since they were Signal students. The case got thrown out due to “evidence mishandling”. That’s what we call it round here when someone rich bribes the judge.’

It didn’t surprise Blake in the slightest. But still…

‘And you what? Took the law into your own hands?’ She fought down the nausea with great effort.

‘I’m sorry, were you under the illusion that we did it as some kind of vigilante justice?’ Roman exchanged an amused glance with Neo. ‘Ten thousand a head for the teenagers. Twenty thousand for the judge. One grieving mother satisfied, and us fifty thousand lien richer.’

‘You murdered three teenagers?’ The chill in her glass seeped through her veins.

‘Actually, what the mother specifically requested was that we just toss a knife in between them and tell them that we’d free the survivor. Then kill the survivor, obviously, but the guy bled to death before that could happen.’

‘Neo’s upset because she couldn’t kill someone?’

‘What kind of monster do you take her for?’ Roman looked astonished. ‘No, Neo’s upset because the judge wouldn’t stop wriggling and she nicked the wrong artery. Got blood all over her boots.’

Neo was gazing mournfully at the blood-soaked leather. Blake sculled the margarita in her hand and held it out for a second one.

‘Now, leaving aside Neo’s expensive cleaning bill, let’s return to the scythe-wielding giantess you brought back to my fair city.’ Roman held up his scroll. ‘I had Neo tag along behind you to make sure you didn’t do anything stupid with your day off. Now, in between her gushing about a dog and “dilf”, whatever that is, she mentioned you gave some kind of inspiring speech to convince Big Red to shrug off those silly old dreams of pacifism and return to the glorious ways of the super-powered mercenary.’

Blake bristled at the mockery. ‘I couldn’t afford to let her go to Atlas. If she was working with their science division, who knows what kind of monstrosities they could dream up?’

‘I’m missing the part where that’s _my_ problem?’

‘She’s less dangerous to my people as a huntress then she is designing weaponry for Atlas. I made the only choice I could.’

‘Blake.’ The sing-song had gone out of his voice. His eyes were cold as ice. ‘She heard your voice. She saw your eyes at close range. Now maybe things haven’t quite clicked for her yet, but now she’s back. She’ll be at class with you. Meals. How long do you think it’ll take before she realises that Bella Ebony is Roman Torchwick’s accomplice?’

‘You’re crediting her with far too much perception.’ Blake didn’t mind letting some of her contempt for the lot of them finally seep through. ‘They’re obsessed with being friendly. Being helpful. They think I’m just a lonely girl who’s keeping them at arm’s length.’

Roman tutted with disapproval. ‘You’re mistaking naivety for stupidity. They _don’t_ need concrete evidence on you. Just a suspicion that something’s wrong. Enough to go to a teacher. How long do you think your lies are going to last once someone with real authority starts making inquiries?’

‘Why should you care if I get found out? It’s not like you couldn’t just move hideouts.’

‘Safehouses. And I care because you and me are now answering to Cinder.’

‘You might, I answer to Sienna.’

‘Who is an entire continent away and currently busy fighting Atlas and Mistral.’ Roman set up three candy figures on the bar. ‘Sienna can’t protect you. And Neo and I don’t have any powerful friends who can protect us at all. That means if Cinder decides that we’re more trouble than we’re worth…’

Neo popped all three piece of candy into her mouth and washed them down with the last of her margarita.

Roman continued. ‘Now I like you, kitty-cat. You’re smart. Too smart to waste your life playing freedom-fighter, but that’s your choice. You saved my life, which puts your in my good books and Neo’s too. So, as a favour to you, we’ll tie off this loose end ourselves.’

Blake inhaled sharply. ‘You’ll kill Ruby? But she’s…she’s just a kid.’

Neo glanced at the backroom and shrugged. Roman poured another round into the mixer with a resigned sigh. ‘Look, I’m not gonna pretend to be some hardass who kills kids for the hell of it. But Red’s not just an ordinary kid. She’s a combatant. A huntress-in-training. She chose to commit herself to a life of violence and unfortunately that violence sometimes goes both ways.’

‘She doesn’t deserve to die just for wanting to become a huntress!’

‘You know what a huntress is, Blake? It’s a well paid mercenary that wonders from town to town, taking coin off desperate people to kill monsters. It’s a licensed killing machine with virtually no limits on their power. I mean Atlas at least keeps theirs in line, but Mistral? Half the huntsmen there are working for the gangs and the other half get a nice paycheque to look the other way. Vacuo? Virtually every huntsman there is rogue in their own way. And Vale? Don’t even get me started on Vale. Truthfully, if we don’t kill her now she’ll likely just become another self-righteous prick with a badge further down the track.’

‘But that’s not why you want to kill her!’ Blake slammed her hands on the bar. ‘You want to kill her because you think she knows too much. You’re killing her to protect yourself.’

‘You’re damn right I am!’ The sudden shout had Blake shooting back on instinct. Roman leaned forward, his eyes blazing as the charm and whimsy evaporated. ‘Sorry to disappoint you, Blake, but not everyone in this world is here for your grand cause. Some of us are just trying to get by. Ever heard of Mountain Glenn? Ah, who am I kidding, that happened ten years ago. Ancient history for you, I’m sure.’

Neo tugged urgently at his sleeve, but Roman ignored her. ‘I was twenty two years old, Blake. I had brand new huntsman license. I had a nice flat in downtown Vale with my girlfriend. I had a solid contract with the Pathfinders. I had things to live for. So when they told us to pull back from the evacuation and collapse the tunnels, I _followed_ those orders. Because I didn’t sign up to get chewed up and shat out by a Grimm before I’d even have the chance to live my life.’

Blake’s lip curled. ‘You left those people to die?’

‘Not all of them. We saved maybe…eighteen thousand. But did the people say thank you?’ Roman’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. ‘Did they say “thank you brave Huntsman for not letting the Grimm eat me alive”? No. Just screamed at us for leaving the others to die. As if we had a choice in the matter.’

‘Didn’t you?’

‘Oh we could have tried for more. Sure. Saved maybe an extra two or three thousand. At the risk of losing everyone we’d already evacuated and leaving a straight path back to Vale for the Grimm. But I don’t mind admitting that I didn’t care about any of that. I was glad that I was alive and I had every intention of staying that way.’

He sagged backwards, the fury fading as his eyes clouded. Neo put her arm around his shoulders, leaning close and patting his face. Roman’s fingers found hers, holding them tight as if they were a lifeline.

‘Some woman came up to me and just…just spat in my face. Called me a murderer.’ The shadow of his hat hid his eyes well in the darkness, but Blake could still hear the tremble in his voice. ‘Me. The man that saved her. That lost all his friends trying to save her. So I broke that ingrate’s nose on the spot and walked away from the whole mess. And I’ve served myself ever since.’

‘So I should be like you then?’ Blake said the words with a courage she did not feel. ‘Fighting for nothing? Believing in nothing? Willing to murder a teenage girl just because she _might_ endanger me?’

Roman took a deep breath. Whatever vulnerable moment he’d had passed like a fading cloud. ‘How many teenage girls would you kill if it meant your fondest dreams came true?’

‘I…I wouldn’t. The White Fang only fights against those who seek to hurt us.’

‘And the firebombings? The industrial sabotage? Derailed trains, demolished bridges. You’re telling me no one ever died?’

‘No one who couldn’t fight back.’ Except she didn’t know that. _Couldn’t_ know that for sure. ‘We…we did what we had to.’

‘And so am I. It’s not personal. Hell, it’s not even professional. It’s just survival. Yours, mine and Neo’s.’

‘You’re that scared of Cinder?’

‘Yes.’ Roman didn’t blink. ‘And you should be too. I cannot over-emphasise that she will kill all of three of us and enjoy herself immensely in the process. You can’t exactly lead your people to a glorious future if you’re a dismembered corpse, now can you?’

She had no answer for that. But cold-blooded murder? ‘What if I convince her to take that Atlas apprenticeship after all?’

He raised an eyebrow. ‘Right. Because that won’t look suspicious at all. Take as much time as you want. Make whatever excuses you need to soothe your conscience. Next time Red steps out into town, you let us know. We’ll make it quick, I promise. And at the end of it, your secret will be safe and we all get to keep our lives. Because you can bet that if Cinder…’

‘If Cinder what?’ A husky voice rang over the bar. ‘Gossiping about me behind my back, Roman? A lady might take offence.’

Roman scowled. ‘A lady should know better than to sneak into a man’s home unannounced.’

‘Oh, Roman, you’ll hurt my feelings.’ Cinder tutted as she approached them. ‘But you can soothe them with a dry martini. No olives, please.’

Roman grimaced, but began reaching for the necessary ingredients. Blake glanced past Cinder, noting an absence of Emerald and Mercury. There was a new girl, however. The same age as Emerald, but far better dressed. She wore mostly purple, a dress shirt and skirt of excellent cut and fabric, covered by a black waistcoat with shiny gold buttons. A cloth-of-gold bow nestled in black hair that fell to her waist.

‘Blake, you should head back up to Beacon before curfew. Would you mind escorting my companion with you?’ Cinder nodded at the girl behind her. ‘This is the fourth member of my team. She’s been looking forward to the Vytal Festival. Say hello, dear.’

The girl stepped forward, extending a gloved hand. Blake took it, wincing at the hidden strength in those delicate fingers. Electric green eyes shone beneath a fringe of black hair, alert and alive with curiosity.

‘Greetings.’ A melodic voice rang with a cultured Atlesian accent. ‘My name is Shilling Wattsworth. I’m so pleased to make your acquaintance.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now we have the final member of Team CESM (Cesium). A useful metal, but toxic for prolonged exposure. I do hope that doesn't forebode anything bad.
> 
> We're starting to move into the meat of Arc II now. Or, more accurately 'a volatile mix of poor decisions, split loyalties and half truths'.


	18. 'the rookie from Atlas'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ruby begins her first day back at Beacon with a new team tradition. Blake serves as an unwilling guide for the newest member of Cinder's team. In Mistral, Specialist Marrow Amin sets foot in a war zone for the first time, completely unprepared for the madness that awaits him beyond Atlas Academy.

‘Alright,’ Ruby stared at her reflection. Uniform neat, if slightly tight around the shoulders. She was growing again, apparently. Red trimmed cloak of white swung around her shoulders. Leather satchel hung by her side. ‘Back into the grind, Ruby.’

An angry fist hammered on the door. ‘Ruby, you’ve been in there for twenty minutes and I still need my shower!’

‘Coming, coming!’ Ruby yelped, whipping open the door and ducking past a furious Weiss. ‘Just needed a bit extra time to…brush my hair.’

Weiss’ eyes narrowed. ‘You haven’t brushed you hair at all. Come here.’

‘It’s fine,’ Ruby took a hop, skip and a jump back to avoid the small, questing hands. Hair brushing from Weiss came in two forms, slow and luxurious or quick and merciless. ‘Perfectly fine. Absolutely fine. Enjoy your shower.’

She landed in between two muscular arms, one of which kept her firmly locked in place as the other began to run a brush through her hair.

‘I’ve got her,’ Pyrrha called cheerfully.

‘Treason!’ Ruby squeaked as the Invincible Girl began to tackle some of the invincible knots in her thick locks. ‘Betrayal on all sides! Jaune, save meeeee!’

‘Hmm?’ Jaune leaned out from behind the redhead. ‘Sorry, I’m already brushing Pyrrha’s.’

‘Can’t we trade places?’ Ruby begged. ‘I’ll do yours, Pyrrha, and Jaune can do mine.’

‘Umm…no.’ Pyrrha shook her head firmly. ‘I need Jaune to do mine. He knows how I like it.’

‘Pyrrha’s hair is a lot easier than most of my sisters’.’ He shuddered, as if recalling something hideous. ‘You should have been there when Opal got married. Me and Dad trying to do eight heads of hair, plus the bridesmaids. Thought that day would never end.’

Pyrrha sighed agreeably. ‘They certainly have you well trained.’

‘Pardon?’

‘Nothing.’

‘Zwei!’ Ruby begged. ‘Haven’t I always treated you well? Rubbed your tummy? Fed you the best treats?’

Zwei lifted his head from his bed and gazed with superb disinterest at his mistress’ grooming plight.

‘Arf,’ Zwei said, as he settled in for a snooze.

Ruby crossed her arms and fumed as Pyrrha battled her mane into some semblance of order. In the time that took, Weiss managed to shower, dress and dry her hair without a strand out of place. Same old Weiss, outshining everyone at the drop of a hat. Well, it was nice to know that some things never cha-…

Jaune grabbed Weiss’ hands and suddenly spun her around the room, Weiss giggling as her skirt twirled.

_Weiss?_

_…_

_Giggling?_

It took Ruby a few moments to process the events in front of her. Pyrrha had placed her own brush down and had held out her hand to Jaune, who obligingly spun her around the room as Weiss continued to twirl until she collapsed backwards onto her bed. Pyrrha flopped down next to her a few moments later.

‘I don’t think I’m ever going to get sick of that.’ Pyrrha gave a contented sigh. ‘Ok, Ruby. Your turn?’

‘My turn for…twirling?’

Weiss stuck up a finger and pointed at Ruby’s face. ‘New team tradition, don’t question it. Jaune, twirl her.’

Jaune obliged.

A few moments later, Ruby found herself giggling next to Weiss and Pyrrha on Weiss’ bed as Jaune flopped down next to her.

‘Okay, I like this.’ Ruby admitted. ‘Good tradition. It can stay.’

‘Glad you approve,’ Weiss said. ‘I don’t know how I’d get through the day without a morning twirl.’

‘Me too,’ Pyrrha and Jaune said in unison. Both of them suddenly blushed and looked away from each other.

Weiss rolled her eyes and Ruby rolled hers back. Still…

‘I missed you guys,’ she said. ‘I mean…I missed everyone. But I…I…’

Weiss snuck her hand into Ruby’s. On her other side, Jaune did the same.

‘We missed you too,’ Weiss said. Then, quick as a flash, Weiss jumped to her feet. The momentum dragged the rest of them along with her. ‘Now come on! We’re going to be late for breakfast! Jaune, you’re the team leader, you should be monitoring the time.’

‘I’m delegating to you. Your sister’s books said delegation was vital in a leader.’

‘For large tasks, you dolt! Not basic timekeeping.’

Loaded with their bags and now with Zwei trotting at Ruby’s heels (of course the little traitor had come running when he heard breakfast mentioned), they headed toward the cafeteria. Weiss and Jaune pushed ahead, the two of them once again bickering over training schedules, team moves, study periods and everything in between. Ruby hung back to chat with Pyrrha about…well, less serious matters. Just as they had before she left.

It was like falling back onto a well-loved mattress. It was…normal? Far more so than going back to Signal or even back to Dad’s place had been. Signal had been familiar, sure, but it hadn’t been normal. All it had done was remind her that she wasn’t the same person she’d been when she once walked its halls.

At Beacon everyone was changing. Growing, day by day, week by week. Pyrrha was more outgoing, her expressions less guarded. The person Ruby had met had measured every word and faked every smile. Not now. Now Pyrrha’s smile sparkled like her eyes, a swing in her step and a hum on her lips as she beamed at the world around her.

Then Jaune and Weiss. Where once Jaune had swaggered with confidence so false it hadn’t lasted a single tongue lashing from the diminutive heiress and Weiss had rampaged against everything that stood in her way, now they moved like equals. There was give and take. Push and pull. Jaune stood his ground and Weiss…well, she didn’t give an inch, but at least she wasn’t quite so crabby about it.

‘They’re…moving differently.’ Ruby turned to Pyrrha, surprised by the indulgent smile on the other girl’s lips. ‘What?’

‘So are you,’ Pyrrha said. ‘They…you, have been tested now. We all have. A baptism of fire…’ she glanced back at Weiss, ‘…maybe that’s the wrong word, but…’

‘Things have changed,’ Ruby said.

‘That’s a good thing,’ Pyrrha took her arm and squeezed it tight. ‘Everything changes.’

‘Some things don’t change.’ Ruby’s lips quirked upwards. ‘Bella’s definitely going to be as cranky today as she was yesterday.’

\--------------------------------------

‘If you don’t mind me saying, you seem like a very angry individual.’

Blake ground her teeth, but remained silent.

Across from her, Shilling Wattsworth popped another crumpet in her mouth and made a blissful expression. ‘Mmm, simply divine. Would you care to try some?’

‘No,’ Blake spat out. ‘In fact, I’d like to…’

‘Bella?’ Nora’s voice rang at its usual peak volume. ‘Hey! You don’t usually grab breakfast in the cafeteria. What’s up?’

Before Blake could escape, the ginger girl plopped into the seat next to her. Ren followed close behind, his mild expression no change from the morning before or frankly the entire time since she’d known him. Whether that meant Nora hadn’t told him or he was simply very good at holding it in, she couldn’t say. Nora, on the other hand, seemed to take their mutual secret-sharing as an excuse to press up far closer against Blake’s side than she normally would have been comfortable with.

Shilling spoke up before Blake could muster an excuse. ‘Miss Ebony has been kind enough to show me around the academy this morning. I’m ever so grateful.’

‘Nora Valkyrie, glad to meet ya.’ Nora thrust her hand across the table, which Shilling shook with delicacy. ‘This is Ren and…oh look, everyone’s coming now! Hey guys! Over here!’

Blake tried to stand, but with Nora on one side and Ren on the other she was inadvertently trapped between them. Helpless to escape as the horde descended. First Yang, who offered Blake yet another infuriatingly polite nod and a pleasant smile, then Weiss and Jaune and their infernal bickering, then Pyrrha who was sharing some kind of joked with Ruby.

Red eyes flicked over to meet amber, a smile beginning on Ruby’s face before Blake hastily looked back down at her plate.

_‘She saw your eyes at close range.’_

One glance would be all it took. One glance. One flicker of memory. One misspoken word and Ruby could out her right in the middle of the cafeteria with no options of escape. Not unless she wanted to rely on Cinder’s newest underling.

An underling that was now smiling brightly at those around her like they were dear friends she hadn’t seen in years.

‘I’m so pleased to meet you all,’ Shilling said once the introductions were finished. ‘It’s been such a long road to get here, and the peace is so fragile at the moment. Such a relief to be safe behind Vale’s walls.’

‘Are you from Atlas?’ Nora asked. ‘Your accent is…’

‘I was… _conceived_ in Atlas, you might say.’ Shilling placed a gloved hand over her mouth as she tittered. ‘But I was born abroad. Truthfully, I’ve never set foot there. My accent I got from my father. He says I remind him of home.’

‘Oh? Who is your father?’ Weiss asked. ‘Perhaps I’ve heard of him.’

Shilling laughed again. ‘No, no. A family like the Schnees would never have heard of him, I’m sure. He made some small advances in science and engineering, but nothing that quite received the attention it was due. In fact, he always said that _I_ was his greatest creation.’

As the fool’s gallery cooed at the sugary words, Blake was left to ponder.

If she just hadn’t shown Ruby the photo and kept her mouth shut, this would have all been settled. Ruby would have gone to Atlas, where she would have fetched coffee, proofread emails, buried her head in technical manuals and maybe, _maybe_ , in ten years or so, have invented weapons for the military.

Instead, she’d pulled out her insurance. Neo, perfectly mimicking her for the cameras whilst Blake herself had been in Grimm Studies. An alibi should questions be raised. But instead of dampening suspicions, her having such a photograph would only inflame them. The only reason it hadn’t so far was that the rest of them seemed to think that she had been deliberately researching it to help Ruby. But sooner or later, someone with a level head and their emotions in check was going to take a step back and see the whole tapestry.

There had been no reason to act so hastily. Not if she’d just _thought_ about it. If she hadn’t let her personal feelings about Atlas cloud her judgement…

 _‘Feelings about Atlas? Or feelings about your little friends?’_ She could imagine well imagine Trifa snickering at the thought. Who in the White Fang nursed a grudge against humanity like Blake Belladonna? Sought out opportunities to fight them like Blake Belladonna? Who else fed the tight little ball of hatred in her heart with fantasies of Atlas in ruins, Mistral overrun and Vale in flames? Ilia was the only one who even came close. Yuma, Trifa, they all liked to pretend that their hatred was still hot, but time had dulled their wounds. For Blake, time had just made them worse.

Dad had been systemically hunted and executed for no other reason than asking that promises be honoured. Mom had become a recluse, a nervous and frail shell of a once vibrant and commanding woman. How many of her friends had died to Mistral militias? How many had since died to Atlas?

Blake had known nothing at humanity’s hands but suffering. She…

‘Yaaaaaang!’ Ruby made a series of flappy hand gestures as her sister whisked away a large chunk of the bacon on her plate. ‘Mine!’

‘Little and less belongs to those without the strength to protect it.’ Yang sagely replied past her mouthful. ‘Which is why Nora will be getting a fork in the ribs if she moves that hand one inch closer to my hash browns.’

‘I wasn’t!’ Nora raised her hands in protest. ‘Ren, back me up.’

‘Nora wasn’t after your hash browns,’ Ren said.

‘Thank you!’

‘She was after the buttered mushrooms.’

‘Ren!’ Nora made a desperate grab, but Yang was already shovelling said mushrooms into her mouth as quickly as possible. ‘Noooooo!’

Blake’s lips twitched. She tried to avoid eating with her team and JSPR whenever possible. To maintain her distance, yes, but also to avoid the little ache that she felt at sitting on the outside. Moments like these were oddly upsetting. She hadn’t planned her impromptu speech to Ruby, but not all of it had been lies. She was strong enough in her own beliefs to admit that, by most standards, the students around her were good people. They were friendly and generous. Kind. Even _Weiss_ had become more bearable to be around. If you could look past her last name and the suffering it had caused…

‘It’s a miracle!’ A loud whoop drowned out her thoughts. Sun Wukong dropped into the seat next to shilling, his eyes as bright as his boots. ‘Bella is smiling, Bella is smiling. Alert High Command and have dispatches sent to the front!’

Blake’s mouth twisted in displeasure. The last thing she needed was _Sun_ commenting on her smile. How strange that even in the presence of Weiss Schnee and Nora Ironwood, he was still the Atlesian she most despised.

‘If you will excuse me,’ Blake said coldly. ‘It would seem this table is now under Atlas occupation. I’ll see you in class.’

She did her best to ignore the pained expression on Nora’s face. The disappointed looks around her hadn’t meant anything a few months ago, so she had no idea why they were affecting her now. Ciel was staring at her with narrowed eyes, a protective hand resting on Sun’s shoulder.

An absurd thought almost made a hysterical laugh bubble up Blake’s throat. Did Ciel think she disliked Sun for being a faunus? She wasn’t exactly wrong, just not for the reasons she thought.

Despite being a traitor to his people, Sun hadn’t been wrong. She _had_ been smiling at the absurd antics at the table. She couldn’t keep lapsing like this. They _were_ good people in their own way. Every day she had to fight against just how easy it would be to like them. To joke around with Yang and Nora. To ask Ren and Pyrrha to spar. To sit down and read with Ruby. But she knew from Ilia just how fickle a human friend could be once they found out you were a faunus.

And yet Nora, when she found out, had only been surprised. Not dismayed or disgusted. Not contemptuous. She hadn’t laughed or sneered. Nor did Sun’s team treat him any differently to how they treated each other. Ciel was the right age. She might have been at the same school as Ilia. Perhaps even laughed at the mining accident? But now she took orders from a faunus. Broke bread with him. Even giggled at his antics before coughing to mask the lapse in decorum.

She didn’t know what she hated more. That Sun was smiling and joking around with humans without a care in the world or that he _could_.

‘You should smile more.’ Shilling’s voice almost made Blake jump out of her skin.

Fixing the green-eyed girl with a glare, Blake made a single gesture with her off hand. Shilling raised a perfectly manicured eyebrow. ‘That is exactly the kind of behaviour that alienates the people around you. You will find infiltration much easier if people like you.’

‘Why not speak a little louder?’ Blake hissed as she turned away, storming down the hallways. ‘That way the whole school can hear you.’

‘I am speaking at the exact volume necessary to avoid being overheard but loud enough not to arouse the suspicions of passers-by.’ Shilling followed close behind, an easy skip in her step as she kept pace. ‘Your needlessly hostile behaviour, on the other hand, will not only provoke the suspicions of your team, but will likely attract attention from Professor Goodwitch, or worse, Professor Peach.’

‘How could Professor Peach be worse than Goodwitch?’

‘Glynda Goodwitch is rated as an Alpha-Three on my threat index,’ Shilling said. ‘Difficult, but not necessarily an impossible fight. Professor Peach, on the other hand, is rated as Alpha-Two, flee on sight. It is a rating she shares with other notable combatants such as Captain Clover Ebi of Atlas and Tyr…and a few others.’

‘Is that so?’ Blake attempted to tune the girl out, to no avail.

‘You should attempt to imitate my own style. As you may have noticed, I project an aura of sweet naivete that is both endearing and disarming. In just two minutes of conversation I have acquired more social currency with them than you have managed in two months. My methods are less confrontational than Cinder’s rather brutal sex appeal and Emerald’s fawning flattery. Indeed, my grand-aunt has had nothing but praise for my manners.’

‘Well, then maybe you should go hang out with Penny? You have so much in common. Sweet, polite, naïve and weird.’

‘That is quite rude.’ Shilling’s placid face broke into an irritated scowl. ‘I am superior to her by any metric you use. Intellect, combat, social skills.’

‘Two times nothing is still nothing.’

The girl sighed. ‘I see it is of no use. A great pity. A little lightness in your demeanour might greatly aid you in your assassination of Ruby Xiao Long.’

Blake skidded to a halt. ‘You…you…I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘My hearing is excellent.’ Shilling informed her. ‘I am quite sure that I heard you and Roman plan to murder your classmate at the earliest available opportunity. For some reason you wished to keep this from Cinder. I therefore deduced that the planned murder is a personal affair, unrelated to Cinder’s business.’

She seemed to take Blake’s silence as affirmation. ‘You need not worry. I have no great loyalty to Cinder outside of our mutual goals. What I would like, however, is simply to observe. It seems that you have some degree of feeling for the girl, and yet you wish to murder her. My father has similar ambitions regarding some old friends, and a comparison of him and you might make for a fascinating psychological study.’

Shilling paused, clearly waiting for a response. When none came, she gave a disappointed huff. ‘Very well, I shall take that as a no. Typical huntress, completely uninterested in contributing to the advancement of behavioural psychology, don’t know why I even wasted my time. Fare thee well, I shall see you in class.’

She skipped away, leaving Blake with raised hackles and a heart beating out of control. She’d avoided thinking about Roman’s instructions all morning. Easier to pretend like they’d never been given.

Blake knew if she was caught, it would mean prison. Especially once a little investigation dug up her membership in the White Fang. If it was just her own freedom at stake, even her own life, it might not have mattered so much. But the dust…how would the White Fang get the dust it needed to fight without her? To be discovered now might doom the struggle in Mistral to a brief and inglorious end.

Faunus liberation required the dust to keep flowing. For the dust to flow, Blake had to remain undiscovered. And to remain undiscovered meant…

The image of the plastic wrapped bodies swam before her eyes. Three teenagers and a judge. Maybe they’d deserved it. Or maybe that was just a story Roman had fed her to soothe her conscience. Either way, they’d had loved ones. Parents who would never know what had happened to their children. Who would spend the rest of their lives staring at their scrolls and hoping that a message would come through.

It was easy to brush that off when it was just nameless, faceless humans who had apparently raised entitled little monsters. But for Ruby it would be Mister Xiao Long, with his kind smile and his sad eyes, waiting by his scroll for a call that would never come. Cooking his daughter’s favourite foods and hoping that she’d come back someday to eat them. He wouldn’t even have the dignity of a grave to visit. Neither he nor Yang ever knowing that the girl they loved had been stabbed to death in a dark alley, wrapped in a plastic sheet and dumped in an incinerator.

And it would be Blake’s fault.

Her scar _burned_. Her sword hand was shaking uncontrollably. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t…

‘Oi, Bella!’ A loud voice shook her out of her thoughts. ‘I said, you alright?’

Blake glanced up. Mercury was standing by the door to Oobleck’s classroom, a confused frown on his face as he looked at her. ‘You were twitching pretty bad.’ He lowered his voice. ‘Was it…?’

‘I’m fine,’ Blake snapped. ‘I’m…I’m perfectly fine. Leave me alone.’

Mercury stared back, something strange playing behind his eyes. As quick as it had appeared, it was gone. ‘Well, come on then. Unless you want double detention for being late _and_ falling asleep in this thing.’

‘I’m coming.’ Blake tried to push past him, only for his hand to seize her elbow.

Mercury leaned in close. ‘If the shakes get too bad, try focusing on four things you can touch, four things you can see, then hear, then smell. Breathe to a count of four as well. It helps.’

Blake searched his face for any sign of deception. Of mockery. There was none. Just his usual smirk, his arrogant aloofness firmly in place like it had never gone missing.

‘Thanks,’ she muttered anyway.

He shrugged. ‘Don’t mention it. No, really. Don’t. At all. And don’t let Cinder see you like that.’

\---------------------------------

‘Stand by to disembark!’ The loadmaster’s voice rang throughout the troop bay. ‘On your feet! Wake your mate and grab your gear. On your feet and stand by!’

Marrow shook his head to clear away the fog, fumbling at his feet for the dive bag he’d shoved there before the start of the flight. He came up short in his safety harness, wheezing slightly as he remembered how tight he’d buckled up during the lift off from Atlas. To his left and right, troops in jungle green fatigues were already unstrapping themselves with practiced familiarity.

Had they been paying attention, he might have been embarrassed by his slip up. Fortunately, they had other concerns.

‘Reinforcement for Tenth Light Infantry, on me!’

‘Reinforcements for Seventh Light, on me!’

‘Relief in place for Third Armoured on me!’

‘Don’t forget your pers-weapons, you lids!’

Marrow took two steps before he realised he’d done just that. Whereas everyone else had grabbed their rifles from the hardpoints beside their seats, he’d left Fetch strapped in. This time people _did_ notice as he pushed back against the flow to retrieve it.

‘Lid!’ Someone snarked.

‘Nice one, rookie!’

‘Last two digits on that serial number, rookie!’ A woman’s voice gleefully yelped. Marrow was spared the indignity of having to do thirty six push ups on the deck by the sheer urgency of the situation. Even the time honoured tradition of ribbing a rookie for a basic mistake was passed over in the need for tempo.

Rifle in one hand and his dive bag slung over his shoulders, Marrow jogged down the ramp and onto the landing pad of FOB Titan. The cruiser was disgorging troops from four exit ramps, whilst heavy machinery unloaded crates of munitions from the massive cargo doors. Loadmasters rushed left and right, signing over their cargo to quartermasters on the ground and signing for whatever cargo they’d take home on the return journey.

The heat hit him like a brick wall. They’d embarked from Atlas in the middle of a blizzard, the chill biting despite the heat lamps. And while most of the other troops disembarking with him had already changed into their green jungle uniforms, Marrow had slept through the flight in his Atlas white. He was already sweating like a Schnee in a faunus orphanage that was having a ‘cheap labour’ sale and it was still early in the morning.

‘Good luck, boys!’ The wiry woman who’d managed Marrow’s sector gave him a thumbs up. ‘You show those terrorists a good time, you hear?’

Marrow gave her a thumbs up with a confidence he didn’t feel, but she’d already moved on. Outgoing troops dealt with, her attention was already on her next charges. Troops in dirty fatigues moved past him, weary faces brightening as they finally stepped onboard their flight home. He swallowed heavily as he noticed the bandages and slings on more than a few of them. If it hadn’t felt real before, it did now.

Receiving officers were barking orders, struggling to be heard above the whine of the engines. ‘Reo-dems for Seventh and Tenth, move straight over to the Manta pads, you’ll be flying straight out to your patrol bases. Reo-dems for Seventh and Tenth, straight to the Mantas!’

‘Everyone who’s ripping in for Titan, move to the accommodation pods! Hurry up! We need this area clear!’

‘Hey Julie! Julie, want to me to kill some Fangers for you while you’re stuck here?’

‘You just keep your bloody head down out there.’

Marrow stumbled a little, not sure what he was looking for. He knew he wasn’t flying out as a reinforcement, but he also wasn’t technically part of the relief-in-place, so…

‘Oi, you lost?’ One of the ground controllers looked up from their clipboard with the harried look of a man who had too many jobs and not enough time to do them in. ‘You a reinforcement or a relief-in-place?’

‘I…uh, I have orders to report to a Captain Wax?’ Marrow held out the data-wafer that had been shoved into his hands about sixteen hours earlier back in Atlas. ‘This says I’m detached to…’

‘Look, man, I’m just here to direct people around the base. I don’t know a Captain Wax, I suggest you check with someone with more stripes than me.’ The man glued his eyes back on his clipboard. Marrow got the message. He had become ‘somebody else’s problem’. In military terms, he was now an unperson to the man in front of him.

Marrow’s arm ached from the weight of his dive bag, and to make matters worse he was fairly certain that there wasn’t a single dry spot on his uniform. He was starting to chafe.

‘There you are!’

Marrow yelped as a meaty hand clapped on his shoulder. He was yanked out of the flow of foot traffic to stand before the biggest faunus he had ever seen.

Two jackrabbit ears stuck out of the man’s head, the jet-black fur the only hair that graced him. Well, that and the fearsome beard that fell halfway down his barrel chest. Two more faunus stood behind him, one a dog faunus like himself and the other with two wings folded behind his back. All three wore tiger-stripe camouflage and carried heavily customised carbines. Not specialists, but not rank and file either. Commandos. As good you could get without attending an Academy.

‘You Specialist Amin?’ The bunny-eared man demanded.

‘Uh…?’

‘Yes or no? Are you Marrow Amin?’

‘Uh, yes!’ Marrow straightened to attention. ‘Yes, sir!’

‘Cut the sir, I’m a noncom.’ The man jerked a thumb toward himself. ‘Team Chief Scarlatina. You can call me Chief or Flax, doesn’t matter to me. You got your orders?’

‘Uh, yes…’

‘Quit saying _uh_ , kid.’ Flax took the data wafer off him and scanned it. ‘Only time you should say _uh_ is when you’re fighting or fucking, and you don’t want to do either activity with me, trust my word on that.’

‘So I’m…not reporting to Captain Wax?’ Marrow ventured.

‘Well, there’s two options. Either I’m lying to you or a movements clerk screwed up your orders. What do you think?’

Marrow could guess.

‘Fall in behind me. We’re already late.’ Flax paused. ‘Actually, first thing’s first, better take that jacket off.’

‘Sir? I mean, Chief?’ Marrow blinked. ‘Uniform regulations state…’

‘You start quoting chapter and verse of the army dress manual at me, kid, and I’ll have you writing it out line by line. You look like you’re about to pass out, now take off the jacket. You got greens in the bag?’

He nodded.

‘Put them on as soon as we’re done. Right now you’re a bright, white target.’ Flax spun on his heel. ‘Mongrel on me, let’s go.’

Marrow found himself forced to double time it behind the three of them as they strode through the crowd. People made way before Flax, but they closed in quickly behind him. They moved deeper into the FOB, passing the landing pads and accommodation blocks before approaching a large warehouse surrounded by armed guards.

One of them approached. ‘ID and business?’

Flax presented an ID card. ‘Fireteam Mongrel out of Argus, plus one specialist. Orders are from Alpha-Oscar One.’

‘Roger.’ The guard placed a hand to the side of his helmet and murmured into his boom-mike. He listened for a few moments. ‘You’re clear, go ahead.’

‘Don’t mind if I do.’ Flax moved past the guard and led the team through a small office and into the warehouse proper. ‘Now what’s the…well I’ll be damned.’

Marrow craned his head, but was disappointed to see a large canvas screen stretched across the warehouse. Behind it could be heard the whine of angle grinders and the clatter of a hammer, but Flax’s reaction didn’t seem to match that. The only thing in sight was a tall man with an unruly brown beard and a friendly smile approaching Flax with arms spread wide.

Flax grabbed the man in a bear hug and squeezed. ‘Clover, that beard is a disgrace to every fisherman on the coast of Solitas.’

‘And what does an angry rich kid know about being a fisherman?’ The man slapped Flax on the back.

‘Just what I’ve seen from you dragging me out to the tundra to carve holes in the ice.’ Flax gestured back Marrow and the other two commandos. ‘You remember Nico Wren and Lassie Rader?’

‘Good to see you both,’ the man paused as he looked at Marrow. ‘Who’s the new guy?’

‘Trixie was…indisposed for this op. I needed a replacement at short notice. This is Marrow Amin.’

‘Good to meet you.’ The man extended a hand, then held it there patiently until Marrow realised it was for him and rushed forward to shake it. ‘I’m Captain Clover Ebi. You a commando?’

‘Ah, no sir,’ Marrow straightened. ‘I’m a specialist. Graduated the academy last year.’

‘No kidding? Welcome to the Branch. The pay’s not great, but we get a lot of discounts at coffee shops.’

‘Thank you, sir.’ Marrow hesitated for a long moment. There was something about the bearded man that he couldn’t quite place. ‘Sir…are you… _the_ Clover Ebi? The commander of the Ace Operatives?’

The man peered over the top of his sunglasses. ‘Last I checked.’

Marrow continued to stare. On the recruitment posters, Captain Ebi was the model of an Atlesian soldier, standing proudly in a neat dress uniform with impeccable grooming. The bearded man in front of him had his hair halfway down his neck, a pair of sunglasses perched on his head, and was wearing what appeared to be a floral shirt with shorts and flip flops.

‘I see.’

The female faunus, Lassie, groaned heavily. ‘Ah hells, it’s a fanboy.’

The bird faunus chuckled. ‘Come on, Lassie, you were just as starstruck when you got to meet Arthur Watts at Futures Day.’

‘Yeah, ‘cos Arthur Watts was a genius.’

Clover winked at her. ‘Who needs brains when you can coast by on your looks?’

‘Are the rest of the Ace Ops here?’ Marrow knew there was an eager tremble in his voice, but he didn’t care.

Clover just chuckled. ‘Come on, I’ll introduce you to the rest of the team. Show you what we’ve been working on. I’m telling you, Flax, she might just be the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.’

“She” turned out to be a sixty three foot trawler, albeit with a gutted superstructure and most of the power plant removed. A number of technicians swarmed over it, the hull exposed in several places to reveal armour plates being installed.

‘You like her?’ Clover waved his arm as if presenting a supermodel. ‘I call her the _Lady Luck_. Mistrali fishing trawler they were using to smuggle weapons to the militia. She’s a beauty, huh?’

Flax cocked an eyebrow. ‘I think you’re taking taxpayer funding of your fishing trips to inappropriate levels.’

‘I wish.’ Clover stared wistfully. ‘Ironwood says I have to give it back after the war is over.’

‘Peacekeeping operation.’

‘Exactly.’ Clover cupped his mouth. ‘Bree! Tortuga! Front and center!’

‘Can’t you come to us?’ A woman yelled back. ‘We’re busy.’

‘She’s sunbathing!’ Another voice called back.

‘Harriet!’ Clover barked.

‘Fine, fine! Let me get my pants on at least.’

‘Tortuga, if she’s not down here in thirty seconds, throw her overboard. With pants, please.’

‘Aye-aye, Captain!’

‘Alright, alright, I’m coming. Sheesh.’ There was a patter of feet on the deck, then a blur as a woman vaulted the boat’s railing and landed in front of them. ‘There, you see? Pants on and everything.’

Marrow blushed. Clover sighed. ‘Harriet, put your shirt on.’

Rolling her eyes, the woman pulled on a green undershirt that seemed to be two sizes too small, then pulled on a button up shirt but left it undone. Marrow kept his eyes firmly on her face.

‘Who’s the new guy?’ The woman said.

‘Marrow Amin. He’ll be on the mission with us.’

‘The…mission?’ Marrow ventured.

‘You’ll get briefed later.’ Clover turned back to Flax. ‘I need you and Nico’s eyes on something. May I borrow you?’

‘Sure.’ Flax tossed Lassie his bag. ‘Lassie, go find us some bunk space. Marrow, make yourself useful down here.’

‘We’ll look after him,’ A man appeared at the top of the ramp at the boat’s side. Marrow’s jaw dropped for what felt like the third time in as many minutes as he saw the light green scales covering his exposed neck and arms. Only one faunus in the Atlas military had those traits. ‘You alright, kid? You look like you’ve seen a ghost?’

‘But you’re…you’re the _Ace Ops_.’ Marrow could barely squeak out the words. He saw Clover leave with Flax and Nico, but now only had eyes for the pair in front of him. ‘You’re Harriet Bree…and Tortuga Castellan? You were the first team of first-years to take out a Vytal Festival in fifty years!’

‘That’s us,’ Harriet grinned. ‘It’s nice to be recognised. Even if it’s just from the neck down.’

‘Do your shirt up, Hare, you’re making the kid blush.’ Tortuga cuffed his partner on the back of the head. ‘Good to meet you, kid. Marrow Amin, was it?’

‘Yes, sir!’

‘Cut the sir, we’re the same rank.’

‘Yes, ssss….specialist?’

‘Eh, good enough.’ Tortuga slung an arm around his shoulder. ‘What do you think of her?’

‘The boat? Well…it looks like you’re adding an armour layer behind the wood?’ Marrow ran his eyes down the trawler’s ungainly lines. ‘Plus you’re installing gun mounts fore and aft.’

‘Yep. Wanted to rip out the whole power plant, but Clover overruled me. Something about it being a _classic_. Anyway, I’ll give you the whole rundown later, but right now it’s time to get to work. You ready to become a real soldier, rookie?’

‘Absolutely, si-…Tortgua?’

‘That’s the spirit.’ The older man gave him a warm smile. ‘Listen, I’ve got problem. Work on this thing is stalling due to lack of resources. I need someone to go collect some energy dust from the quartermaster.’

‘Energy dust? I’ve never heard of that kind.’

‘It’s a special purpose hybrid dust. Military grade. I managed to get a shipment in, but I haven’t had time to collect it.’

‘I can get it!’ Marrow nodded eagerly. ‘I’ll be right back.’

‘Thank you for your service, kid.’ Tortuga called after him as he sprinted away.

\------------------------------------

As soon as the rookie had gone, Harriet leaned closer to her partner. ‘You do know you’re a horrible person, right?’

‘Oh yeah,’ Tortuga nodded. ‘Absolutely no question about it.’

\--------------------------------------

Clover looked away with a shake of his head. ‘Reminds me of myself fifteen years ago.’

‘Yeah, but your luck was so good you actually _did_ come back with some headlight fluid and the keys to the dropship.’ Flax gave a snort. ‘Unbelievable.’

‘Simpler times, feels like.’

‘Times are the same. Weapons improve, the generals change over, but at the end of the day we’re still being sent in to fix messes the politicians should have sorted out.’

‘War is the continuation of politics by other means.’ Clover quoted.

Flax groaned in response. ‘Don’t start parroting Pallikaras at me. My eldest started reading _On War_ last year and keeps citing passages as to why he should be allowed to go on spring break in Vacuo.’

‘Considering what we got up to the last time we were in Vacuo, are you really in a position to judge?’

‘Yeah, but we had guns. Well, I had a gun, you had a fishing rod.’

‘Sounds like quite a story.’ A woman’s voice interrupted. Flax didn’t come to attention, but he did give a respectful nod to the approaching officer.

‘Major Schnee, ma’am.’

‘Chief Scarlatina,’ Winter extended her hand. ‘Thank you for flying out from Argus at such short notice.’

‘Believe me ma’am, I was eager to get going.’ Flax cracked his knuckles. ‘We’ve had no bandit or Grimm activity around Argus for almost four months, me and the lads were going stir crazy.’

‘Well, we’ve got work enough down here.’ Winter nodded at _Lady Luck_. ‘General Ironwood has tentatively authorised a raid against a White Fang HVT.’

‘Sienna Khan or Fennec Albain? I’ll kill Corsac as well, obviously, but the bounty is higher on Fennec and flights to Vale are expensive.’

Clover coughed. ‘Flax, this is serious.’

‘I _am_ serious. You ever try taking five kids on an international vacation? Then there’s the tickets to the combat tournament, don’t even get me started on the mark-up with the dust shortage…’

‘Flax.’ This time there was a note of warning in his voice. ‘Major Schnee doesn’t exactly share our sense of humour regarding…well, _that_.’

The aghast look on Winter’s face spelled that out well enough. Flax scratched a floppy ear. ‘Sorry, ma’am.’

‘That’s…quite alright.’ Winter cleared her throat. ‘The target isn’t Khan, however. It’s a dust depot, one of her largest ones.’

‘How much?’

‘Best guess is close to fifty tons, based on a number of interrogations and some low-level informants.’

Flax’s eyes widened. ‘Where the hell did Sienna get fifty tons of dust?’

‘Intel team has some theories, but nothing concrete. You and your team have been selected to assist with the insertion.’

‘Because we’ve got ears and tails?’

‘Yep,’ Clover said.

‘Fair enough. Mind showing me what you’ve got? I’m going to need to inject some realism into whatever fantasies you’ve dreamed up.’

‘Right this way.’ Clover glanced back at the main floor of the warehouse. ‘You want to me save your rookie from Harriet and Tortuga?’

‘Eh, it’s a learning experience.’

\-------------------------------

Marrow handled the large plastic crate with care as he ascended up the ramp and onto the spacious open deck of the trawler. The quartermaster had been very specific that the energy dust was highly volatile and needed to be handled gently.

‘I got it!’ He called out. ‘I’ve got the energy dust.’

‘And not a moment too soon,’ Tortuga said gravely. ‘Well done, Specialist. Give it here.’

Marrow handed it over like he might a new born child. From the wide smile on Specialist Bree’s face, he must have done a better job than they expected. Tortuga entered a four digit code on the case, flipped open the latches, reached inside…and pulled out a Vale Press.

Marrow felt his smile freeze as Harriet doubled over with laughter.

‘Oh, my sweet baby.’ Tortuga pressed his lips to the glass. ‘Daddy is so sorry for leaving you behind. You know how it is. Short notice deployments, not enough time to pack…’

‘You…you said it was energy dust?’

‘It absolutely is, see?’ Tortuga removed the lid to show eight large bags inside. ‘Premium coffee beans, grown in Argus and roasted in Atlas. The energy that keeps this glorious machine in motion. Good job, rookie.’

Marrow’s cheeks burned, and he had a sudden desire for the deck of the boat to swallow him up and deposit him into the depths of Remnant. A heavy arm wrapped around his shoulders and for a moment he panicked.

‘Don’t let them give you any crap, Rookie.’ A warm voice said. ‘They’re just being lippy because they’re not the freshest fish in the pond anymore.’

Marrow glanced up to see a wide smile beaming down at him, the owner of the arm being a full head taller than him, in possession of an arm that had more muscle mass than most of his body and, most confusingly, was now offering him a plate of brownies with the other.

‘Indeed.’ Another voice said. A lean man climbed up the side of the boat, pausing only to take a brownie from the plate before continuing. ‘I seem to recall a pair of junior specialists spending nine hours trying to collect an exhaust sample from a Manta when they first joined the team.’

Tortuga grinned back. ‘Yeah. But then we convinced you to volunteer for that motorbike course.’

‘Motorbike course?’ Marrow was slightly nonplussed.

‘Word of advice, rookie.’ Harriet had finally finished wiping away her tears of mirth. ‘Never go looking for energy dust and never volunteer for motorbike courses. Neither of them is what they seem. This is Elm Ederne and Vine Zeki, our senior specialists. You wouldn’t have heard of their Vytal victories because they’re both old and their glory days are long behind them.’

‘Aaaaand just like that you’re not getting any brownies.’ Elm raised the plate above her head as Harriet made a grab for them. The short woman made several ineffectual jumps to get at them before sulkily giving Elm’s leg a kick.

‘Don’t mind Harriet, she hasn’t been vaccinated,’ Vine said. ‘Since work has clearly stopped, might I suggest we take a quick break for morning tea?’

‘Speaking of tea.’ Tortuga tossed a sealed package at Vine. ‘Mum tossed your favourite blend in.’

Vine opened it and took a deep and luxurious sniff of the contents. ‘Send her my thanks, and ask her if she is currently looking for a romantic partner.’

He flicked his head to the side to avoid the wrench Tortuga threw at his head. ‘Mention my mum again, Vine, and I’m gonna tie you in a knot like the human slinky you are.’

‘Perhaps I’ll just go and put the kettle on?’

‘You do that,’ Tortuga agreed. ‘Let’s see…we’ve got Caffeinated Violence for Hare.’

‘Mmm, gimme, gimme!’

‘Elm, you still like the Competitive Edge blend, right?’

The woman gave a contented purr in response.

‘Aaaand…rookie, how strong do you like your coffee?’

‘Uh…’ Marrow shrugged. ‘I don’t really drink coffee?’

Harriet and Tortuga exchanged another glance.

‘I give him two days,’ Harriet said.

Elm pressed the plate against Marrow’s chest again. ‘Have a brownie.’

Marrow continued to stare at the treats. ‘You guys… _are_ the Ace Ops, right? The best team in Atlas?’

‘Last we checked.’ Tortuga began to carefully measure teaspoons of coffee into his Vale Press, Harriet attempting to sneak up on Elm’s blindside to get at the plate in her hands.

‘Just making sure,’ Marrow said faintly. He took a brownie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For a chapter that was initially not drafted as Marrow centric, it certainly turned that way fast as soon as I got to his segment. The further Ruby and Blake segments had to be set back to next chapter, but they'll hopefully be better for the delay.


	19. 'the girl who forfeited'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The newest member of Cinder's team tests her skill against Pyrrha Nikos and Penny Polendina. Blake is forced to work with Ruby for a sparring match against a professor.

‘By the end of that speech, Ozpin was able to convince every huntsman and huntress in the bar to sign a letter refusing to assist in the faunus explusion. The letter was passed around town, and by the end of it over two hundred hunters had signed. That included most of the major guild leaders in Vale. Some hunters still accepted the contract but were ostracised by their peers on their return.’ Oobleck scanned the rows of students, his thin smile not giving anything away. ‘An important reminder that having the abilities and legal powers of a huntsman matter little if people refuse to hire you. Reputation is gained by the spoonful and lost by the bucket.’

He glanced at his watch. ‘We’re almost overtime, so I will leave you with this. Menagerie, for almost twenty years after the forced resettlements began, was divided and leaderless. But in that time, an entire generation was born and raised on Menagerie with an advantage their parents never had. They could speak each other’s languages. From that common language came unity, from unity came the strength to fight back.’

 _We still have that strength._ Blake could see the disbelieving smirk on Cardin’s face, it was mirrored on more than a few faces. But there were also thoughtful ones. Ruby. Yang. Pyrrha. Even Weiss.

‘We’ll pick this up again tomorrow morning with Pierre Belladonna’s privateering campaign and the founding of the Red Fang. For your tutorial questions, read pages thirty seven to forty five of _A History of Vale_ and page one hundred and thirty two of _Fort Castle: Fate of a Rebellion_. Mr. Winchester, do not forget that seven hundred words you owe me by Friday.’

The class spilled out into the aisles and out the corridors. Cardin, perhaps stung at his essay, was still running his mouth. Blake kept her head and moved past him. She had bigger things to worry about.

‘I’m just saying, sure they had it tough, but those days are over. No one’s running any forced expulsions these days. Come on, there’s not really much an excuse for the White Fang to be blowing stuff up anymore.’ Cardin tapped one of the maps on his way out the door. ‘Look, they’ve got the biggest fishing exclusion zone of any kingdom other than Atlas. They’ve got farmlands in Southern Mistral. Seems like the faunus are doing alright.’

‘I dunno, man,’ Russell gave a shrug. ‘You saw the footage of those militia attacks.’

‘Yeah, but the faunus were attacking stuff before that.’ Cardin waved over at Weiss. ‘Hey, Schnee. The White Fang’s been hitting SDC property for what? Five years now?’

Weiss looked like she would rather talk to anyone else, but she gave a curt nod. ‘Since Sienna Khan took over, yes.’

 _You mean since the SDC paid to have my father assassinated._ Blake’s clenched her fists tight. She glanced at Nora in time to catch her staring straight back. She glanced away quickly, forcing her fists open. Now wasn’t the time.

‘What was the death toll?’ Cardin continued. ‘A hundred? Two hundred?’

‘Forty seven.’ Weiss corrected. ‘Roughly ten of which were targeted assassinations. Look, I don’t think it’s a good comparison. The White Fang _has_ targeted the SDC in the past, but that doesn’t excuse the rogue militias attacking innocent settlers.’

Cardin gave a laugh at that. ‘Whose side are you guys on? We’re in Mistral fighting the White Fang and it feels like you’re making excuses for them.’

‘The only fighting you’re doing, Cardin, is with your tutor for help with your essay.’ Sun piped up from the back of the pack. A wave of laughter followed.

A shadow passed over Cardin’s face, but a smirk quickly replaced it. ‘Hey Sun, you’d back me up on this, right? Faunus rights can’t be too bad in Atlas, if you’re studying at their academy and getting ready to serve in the military.’

All eyes swerved to Sun. He was no longer laughing.

‘I…they’re getting better, sure.’

‘Getting better? You mean they’re not good? Hey, they still have it so they’re legally allowed to refuse service to you, just because you’re a faunus over there?’

Sun didn’t answer. Blake felt the slightest moment of sympathy. The question was a trap. From the flinch on Weiss and Neptune’s faces, they saw it as well.

Penny didn’t. ‘All members of the Atlas military, humans or faunus, are entitled to service at any venue they enter! No one would dare turn friend-Sun down!’

‘Oh, my mistake. So…what about when he’s _not_ wearing that pretty uniform?’

Penny opened her mouth and closed it again. ‘Ah…’

‘I get it. You’re a big shot in that uniform, but out of it you’re just another faunus in Atlas.’ Cardin turned away. ‘Don’t know about any of you, but I couldn’t serve a kingdom that treated me like that. It’d feel too much like being a traitor to my kind.’

Neptune stepped forward, his eyes locked on Cardin’s back. Sun seized his arm before he could make a move.

‘Leave him be.’

‘Sun, he…’

‘He wants a fight, I’ll give him one in the ring at Vytal.’ Sun pulled Neptune back to his side. ‘Leave it be. He’ll keep for now.’

Blake had to hide the sneer that instinctively crossed her lips at the sight. Maybe after whatever else he’d been called at Atlas Academy, being labelled as a traitor didn’t bother him too much. Or maybe he acknowledged the truth in Cardin’s words. As far as Blake was concerned the Winchester boy could choke, but she was certainly in agreement with him when it came to Sun.

Nora had been right on one front. General Ironwood _had_ lifted the restrictions on faunus enlistment in the vaunted Atlesian military in one of his first acts as Headmaster of Atlas Academy and head of military training, unilaterally circumventing the Council of Ten’s protests on the matter.

Mom and Dad had seen it as a hopeful sign. A major win for faunus rights in a movement where every victory seemed incremental.

But even if the general’s intentions had been honourable, his influence ended at the boundaries of military affairs. He still couldn’t mandate equal pay for equal work in the civilian world. And he couldn’t force private combat schools to open their doors to faunus students. Without a primary combat education it was nearly impossible to get into Atlas Academy. Which meant that almost seven years after the repeal, there were virtually no faunus in the Specialist Corps _or_ serving as officers. Even after ascending to Supreme Commander four years earlier and gaining a _second_ Council seat, Ironwood had made no further pushes for faunus rights.

Well, there had been that one solitary push to ensure that military contractors had to obey the same rules on faunus employment as the military. The Council of Ten had unanimously voted against him on that one. Jacques Schnee had many friends and deep pockets. Ironwood had never tried again.

Sienna had always noted that it made perfect sense for faunus enlistment to be as high as it was. Most humans in Mantle wouldn’t even _serve_ faunus, let alone hire them. Most were left with a choice between back-breaking labour in unsafe conditions for the SDC (or any other equally predatory employer) and crime.

Dad, Mom and Sienna had fought tooth and nail to change that. The Albain brothers had travelled the four kingdoms, collecting donations from wealthy faunus and securing loans from any bank or angel investor that was willing to gamble on future profits from the newly cleared land in Southern Mistral. With that money the White Fang had helped hundreds immigrate to the Menagerie settlements in Southern Mistral where they could learn how to farm or fish.

Blake could still remember the joyful tears on one woman’s face as Dad showed her the plot of land she and her young daughters had been assigned, as well as the stout cottage that they would share with another small family. She remembered laughing herself silly at his red face once the woman had finished showering him with kisses.

She remembered seeing the burnt out husk of that same cottage in the wake of the first militia raids almost seven years ago.

The immigration dried up overnight. No one wanted to move their family to a warzone. Subsistence in Atlas still beat dying in the Disputed Zone. The dream had died two years before Dad did. But a few months later, the recruiters of the Atlas military were able to offer a new dream.

Comfortable salaries. Generous health and accommodation subsidies. The right to live in Atlas city itself. Travel and adventure in foreign kingdoms. And to top it all off, a full pension after twenty years.

All of that and the promise of respect.

There had been a wave of enlistment. Many had served out their four-year contracts and used the money to immigrate to Menagerie or Vale. But most, to Blake’s surprise, had renewed their contracts. Sienna had expected it. She had diligently observed the news reports from Atlas, making careful note whenever they ran a story praising this faunus for being the first to become a combat engineer, or that faunus for being the first to win a bravery medal against the Grimm.

 _‘If the military is the only place in Atlas where a faunus feels they can get a fair deal, then the military is where they’ll go’_ She had said. _‘It’s an excellent recruiting strategy. But two can play at that game. We can just as easily portray ourselves as the only reasonable choice in an unreasonable world.’_

Blake didn’t exactly like that the White Fang had essentially re-purposed Atlas propaganda tactics with a faunus twist, but she couldn’t deny the results. Nothing could stop the mortification, however, of knowing that the Atlas military had more faunus in its ranks than every single branch of the White Fang put together. Maybe not now that faunus were flooding to the fighting in the Disputed Zone, but in all the years Blake had served, the White Fang had never numbered beyond the low hundreds. Atlas had easily a thousand faunus in combat arms alone, still more in transport, medical or logistics roles.

No doubt Sun would be a part of that someday. A smattering of faunus had managed to graduate Atlas Academy, but no doubt he’d be the first at something else. The first to become an officer, perhaps?

He was just another enemy. A faunus that served humanity was as good as a human himself. And she could not afford to waste time feeling sorry for him. Him, or Weiss or…or Ruby.

\-------------------------------

‘Welcome back, Ruby!’

‘Thanks!’

‘Hey Ruby, good to see you.’

‘Same.’

‘Sparring practice later?’

‘Sure! Hey, how’s the campaign going?’

‘Not great. The party was meant to raid a bandit camp. Instead they murdered a local innkeeper, blamed it on the bandits and fomented a riot to kill the bandits instead.’

‘Oh.’

‘Yeah, things haven’t been great since you left. Do you want back in?’

‘Let me dig out my character sheet. Thanks, Dove.’

‘No worries.’

The sparring room began to fill up as the class finished changing into their combat outfits. She noticed the changes straight away. Weiss had extended her skirt so it now fell almost to her ankles, whilst her boots seemed tougher, the heels lower and the soles thicker. Jaune had extended his breastplate so it now covered most of his torso.

Ruby examined her own outfit. Perhaps a bit more armour wouldn’t hurt? She was probably due for a few upgrades anyway, especially since she’d grown taller and broader since arriving at Beacon.

‘Settle down class, find your seats.’ Professor Goodwitch’s arrival cut short any further thoughts on the matter. ‘Ruby, may I see you for a moment?’

Ruby noticed that the deputy headmistress wasn’t alone. Professor Peach stood next to her, the shorter woman for once not wearing her neat pencil skirt and jacket, but rather a flowing skirt of sky blue and a white shirt with billowing sleeves. Silver pauldrons protected her shoulders, held in place by leather straps that criss-crossed her chest and back. A blue cape fell almost to her calves, but unlike Ruby’s or Yang’s, it was not a single piece of cloth, but instead three overlaying pieces of fabric joined by a silvery mesh. The white patterns on the edges reminded Ruby of a butterfly’s wings.

‘First of, Ruby, welcome back,’ Miss Goodwitch said. ‘Are you feeling up to sparring today? Your father mentioned that you had a moment the other week?’

‘There’s no shame in easing back into things,’ Professor Peach added. ‘Especially not after the shock you had.’

‘I…I think I’ll be alright.’ Ruby fiddled with a strand of her hair, suddenly self-conscious under their gaze. Professor Goodwitch had dropped her usual sternness, instead looking at her with an almost sympathetic expression. Peach, as usual, was unreadable. ‘The only thing I’m worried about is hurting someone if I go all out.’

‘That’s not such a concern here.’ Goodwitch nodded toward the stands. ‘To be frank, Ruby, most of your classmates are already at or above your level in terms of fighting ability. Still…I think we can ease your worries a little further. Take your seat.’

Ruby scuttled back up to join the rest of JSPR, Pyrrha raising an eyebrow in a silent question but Ruby shook her head. Down in the sparring ring, the two professors were having a final conference before exchanging nods.

‘Good morning, class,’ Professor Goodwitch said, stepping out into the middle of the ring. ‘I hope you all enjoyed your weekend. I hope even more that you spent it revising your notes from last Friday’s combat class.’

Weiss and Jaune exchanged a smug glance. Nearly everyone else exchanged an awkward one. Miss Goodwitch narrowed her eyes. Ruby had the uncomfortable feeling that she was making mental notes of the slackers.

‘This morning we will be focusing on versatility and adaptation when applied to teamwork. Who remembers the stages of competence?’

Weiss, has usual, had the first hand in the air. Miss Goodwitch nodded. ‘Go on, Miss Schnee.’

‘Unconscious incompetence, conscious incompetence, conscious competence and unconscious competence.’ Weiss rattled off.

‘Indeed. Well done.’

Weiss only preened a little at the flattery. The rest of JSPR kept perfectly straight faces. It wouldn’t do to giggle at her in the middle of class.

Miss Goodwitch continued. ‘In layman’s terms, the first two are simply not knowing what you don’t know and knowing what you don’t know. The first is solved by self-awareness, the second by curiosity. The final two stages come down to training and experience. How many of you feel you are at a level of conscious competence in your teamwork?’

Most of the room raised their hand.

‘And unconscious competence?’

Only Snowcap kept their hands up, Sun flashing Cardin a grin as the Vale boy fumed.

‘How about just with your partner?’

More hands were raised, but still barely a quarter of the room. Goodwitch didn’t seem at all dissatisfied. ‘Humility is a good quality, especially in a huntsman-in-training. However, most of you are probably better than you think you are. If, for instance, I put Miss Schnee and Mister Arc up against another pair in the ring and ordered them not to speak, odds are they would be able to read each other’s body language and intent well enough to function. Whilst each of you has improved in combat ability from the start of first term, the true benefit is how it taught you to work with your partner. For some of you it took a few weeks, for others a few months. Once you graduate, you may be expected to do the same, but in a few days. Sometimes a few hours.’

Cardin raised his hand. ‘Can’t we just work with our team from Beacon?’

‘Beacon and Haven certainly encourage our graduates to work with their teams well past graduation. Less so Atlas and Vacuo for different reasons. Even then, your team might part ways for a while or simply split up. Your partner might be injured and need to take a break. My first partner had an unexpected pregnancy and took a two year break from field work. I ended up working with an Atlas specialist in that time. The urgency of our mission dictated that we learn each other’s movements quickly and well.’

‘I’ll say,’ Peach said drily. ‘You were moving in perfect synchronisation from what I saw.’

Ruby had no idea why Professor Goodwitch’s cheeks darkened suddenly.

‘For that reason, today we will be learning about how to adapt quickly to a new partner. Can I get four volunteers from different teams.’

A series of hands went up.

‘Miss Polendina and Miss Nikos. Mr. Black and Mr Winchester.

‘Actually professor, could I take my teammate’s spot?’ The new girl, Shilling, had stood up. ‘I haven’t had the chance to test my combat abilities in quite some time. I’m afraid I’m getting rusty.’

Professor Goodwitch gave her an approving nod. ‘Of course, Miss Wattsworth. No practice is ever wasted. If that’s alright with you, Mr. Black?’

The grey-haired boy gave his teammate an odd look, part question and part amusement. ‘Makes no difference to me. Enjoy.’

Ruby had to smile at the girl’s eagerness as she skipped down the steps to stand next to Cardin. The taller boy hefted his mace onto his shoulder, offering her a charming (for Cardin) grin.

‘Just stay close, Shilling.’ Cardin turned back to Penny and Pyrrha, both of whom were quietly talking. ‘I’ll protect you.’

‘That’s very gallant of you, Mr Winchester,’ Shilling said with a titter. ‘But my father taught me that a young lady should always carry her own protection.’

Cardin scowled again as a round of chuckles went around the stands.

‘Are all combatants ready?’

Penny gave a quick salute, Pyrrha a sharp nod. Ruby could see the confidence on both of their faces and leaned forward eagerly. The match would probably be quick. Cardin was strong against Grimm and against slow moving targets, but Pyrrha and Penny were faster. Much, much faster. Add to that, Pyrrha and Penny already knew each other’s fighting styles and had taken a moment to strategise. Cardin had wasted that chance in favour of flirting.

‘Begin!’

Pyrrha’s weapon cycled into rifle mode, a hail of gunfire pinging off Cardin’s armour as he went firm to tank the hit. Spinning in place, Pyrrha unlimbered her shield just in time to catch Penny’s feet. The Atlesian girl sprang off the shield directly at Cardin, her blades already arcing in two separate directions. From the panic on Cardin’s face, he had idea which angle to defend against.

Ruby felt a brief moment of pity. This wasn’t going to be a defeat, this was going to be a humiliation…

The staccato of heavy calibre rounds sounded a moment before Penny could connect. Penny gave a yelp as she was sent flying with her aura flaring. Rather than follow Penny up to finish Cardin off, Pyrrha was forced to duck behind her own shields as Shilling emerged from a cloud of smoke with an elegantly engraved revolver in each hand.

‘I didn’t even see her draw.’ Weiss sounded awed and Ruby couldn’t blame her. Shilling wasn’t just fast, she was impossibly fast. Like she had a speed semblance that was constantly active. Her co-ordination was equally flawless, firing on both Penny and Pyrrha with two separate weapons at two separate angles and not missing a single shot.

If Cardin had been equally as shocked by his impromptu partner’s sudden offensive, he was quick to recover. Charging forward, he blocked several return shots that Pyrrha had aimed at Shilling, then brought his mace down in an overhand swing. Pyrrha wasn’t so easily caught, neatly sidestepping Cardin and delivering a series of blistering blows to the back of his knees and in between his shoulder blades. It took her only moments to execute the attack, but it was all Shilling needed to close the distance.

Her pistols spun in her hands, curved blades springing out of the grips to carve chunks out of Pyrrha’s aura as she struck high and low at once. There were more than a few shocked gasps. It was rare enough for anyone to even land a hit on Pyrrha, almost unheard of for someone to take her aura from full to just over three quarters in a single exchange.

Even then, Ruby was amazed by the speed with which Pyrrha disengaged, using her shield to create space between her and Shilling’s daggers. She continued to backpedal, feet shifting nimbly until Shilling had almost driven her to the edge of the ring.

Penny fell like a thunderbolt, having allowed Pyrrha to soak up Shilling’s attention. Her blades came down like a halo of death, aimed straight at Shilling’s back.

And missed.

Cartwheeling away in a flurry of skirts, Shilling had a mocking smile on her face quite unlike the pleasant demeanour she’d shown at breakfast. There was a clink of empty shells hitting the ground as she reloaded in a blur.

‘Go, Pyrrha!’ Ruby cheered, Weiss and Jaune quickly joining in.

Penny and Pyrrha charged, one going high and the other low. Pyrrha’s shield came up as Shilling raised her revolvers. Shilling got off a single shot, then there was a loud _click_ as both weapons misfired. Confusion flickered across her face for a brief moment before Pyrrha hit her. Before Pyrrha’s hit could land, Shilling raised both arms above her head.

‘I yield.’

Pyrrha disengaged at the last second, running past Shilling and transferring her momentum into a roll before she could ring out. Penny likewise broke off, screeching to a halt with a perplexed expression.

‘Excuse me Miss Wattsworth, but am I to understand you do not wish to continue our bout?’ Penny said.

‘Correct, Miss Polendina.’ Shilling holstered both pistols in the folds of her skirt, each one disappearing from view. ‘My partner is down, and I find myself overmatched by both you and Miss Nikos.’

‘You…don’t want even want to try?’ Pyrrha sounded more disappointed than surprised.

Shilling offered her a sweet smile. ‘I’m afraid I’ve strained a muscle in my forearm as well.’

She placed her right hand over her left arm. ‘If you don’t mind, Professor?’

‘Of course not.’ Professor Goodwitch frowned. ‘However, I must caution you that in a real fight your opponent will not grant you such a luxury. Whilst that is not the focus of today’s lesson, I would recommend all of you begin to consider the real possibility of fighting against the odds. A smart huntress should never attack without a two to one advantage on her side, and a smarter huntress should prepare to be attacked by two against her one.’

Professor Peach stood from her ‘Shall we do our little demonstration early, Glynda?’

‘Hmm, this _would_ be an appropriate moment. Ruby Xiao Long and Bella Ebony. You will be partnering up next.’

Ruby stood, acknowledging the encouraging nods from Weiss and Jaune as she took a deep breath. ‘Who will we be fighting?’

Peach grinned toothily. ‘Me.’

\------------------------------

Ruby gave Crescent Rose a few experimental swings, twirling it behind her back and above her head in a lazy figure-of-eight pattern that Blake knew was more for building momentum than actual offence or defence.

She tried not to let her discomfort show.

‘There are several lessons I want you to take away from this session.’ Professor Goodwitch was still addressing the class as Ruby and Blake loaded and double checked their weapons. ‘First, how to make your semblance and fighting style meld well with a new partner. Whilst this particular partner ship might not suggest any obvious strategies, you should look at this not as a limitation but as challenge to be creative.’

‘Due to the disparity in skill levels, you are only required to knock my aura down to half,’ Peach said. ‘That being said, I would advise against risking everything on a few heavy shots. Exercise caution, come up with a plan and be prepared to adapt on the fly. Above all, hold nothing back. You have five minutes to plan.’

Blake found Ruby face to face with her as soon as Peach turned away. She shuffled back awkwardly, avoiding eye contact as much as possible. Ruby’s white cloak briefly caught her eye, rimmed with scarlet to match its owner’s eyes.

Her sword hand started trembling again.

‘What’s the plan?’ Ruby kept leaning in, keeping her voice low. ‘We know she fights with knives, right?’

‘Right.’ Blake could remember seeing professor sharpening her collection across several detentions. It was a wide arsenal, from throwing knives to punch daggers, thin stilettos and even a heavy kukri. ‘But what kind?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, there were dozens of knives, right? She couldn’t possibly be carrying them all.’

‘Right…’ Ruby trailed off, glancing back at Peach. The Professor was quietly chatting with Miss Goodwitch, the two of them apparently discussing the recent opening of a day spa and debating the possibility of a weekend trip. ‘It’d be impossible to carry that many.’

‘Where would she even put them?’ Blake said. ‘I can’t even see any on her now.’

She could have been hiding them under her cloak, or perhaps in the green sash around her waist. Even so there could have only been room for a few. A strategy began to form in her mind, the shaking in her sword hand easing with every pace she took away from Ruby.

‘Hang back and snipe,’ she said. ‘Keep out of the close fight, leave that to me. She might be faster, but I can avoid being hit with my clones. You can use your speed to avoid her throwing knives and keep chipping down her aura.’

Blake and Ilia had practiced similar tactics in anticipation of the day when they might have to fight Atlas specialists. Back then it had been Ilia playing the decoy at close range and Blake chipping away with Gambol Shroud’s pistol mode, but the same principles should apply.

‘You girls ready?’ Peach called.

Blake licked her suddenly dry lips. This would be the first time in weeks that she had tried any kind of heavy combat. This wasn’t going to be a takedown of aura-less security guards. Even taking it easy on them, Peach would be far beyond their skill level. She was a veteran of over twenty years. Ruby and Blake hadn’t even finished their first semester yet.

‘We’re ready.’ Ruby called back. She dropped her voice. ‘Are you alright, Bella?’

‘I’m fine.’ Blake racked a round into the chamber. ‘Remember, stay on the outside until I call you in. I don’t need you surprising me in there.’

‘Yeah sure, I…’

‘Begin!’

Goodwitch’s shout kicked something off in Blake’s heart. She was bounding toward Peach before she even knew her feet were moving.

Peach was waiting. As predicted, her hands went up and back, drawing two long knives from concealed sheathes under cloak. At any other moment, Blake might have stopped to admire the craftsmanship, the gracefulness of their curved blades and the elegance of the engraving. Instead, she dropped a clone and sidestepped right.

Peach’s boot caught her in the midrift before she could even think. Blake tumbled, catching herself before she could slide out of the ring, then glancing back in frustration at her clone.

It was gone. Peach hadn’t avoided the clone after all. She’d hit it, watched it shatter and then guessed where Blake had gone. The speed was astonishing. The mental sharpness was terrifying.

‘Clone semblances are like magic shows.’ Peach was speaking to the stands. ‘Very impressive, but eventually you learn how they’re done and it takes a lot of the fun out of the whole thing.’

Perhaps it wasn’t meant as an insult, but it stung like one. Ruby’s rounds chased Peach across the ring, the woman always one step ahead of the high calibre projectiles. Blake watched for any tells of a semblance, perhaps magnetism or something that boosted her speed.

Nothing. There was no tell. So either she’d learned to conceal it or she just wasn’t bothering to use it on Blake and Ruby.

Blake charged in again, this time aiming a cut at Peach’s legs. Steel rang on steel as Peach intercepted the strike, but Blake had expected the move. Looping the ribbon around the woman’s wrist Blake flicked her whole body to the right, dropping another clone. This time Peach ignored the clone entirely in order to strike directly at where Blake was.

 _She knows exactly what to look for when I drop the clone_. Strangely, that didn’t frighten Blake like it should have. Sienna had been equally as adept at exploiting the holes in Blake’s fighting style until Blake learned how to close them.

Instead of dodging or blocking the hit, Blake rolled with it, allowing the momentum to carry her backwards until her ribbon went taught. Peach set her stance to avoid being pulled off balance, but was forced to extend the arm that Blake had wrapped up.

Ruby took the shot, the dust round smashing into the blade in Peach’s hand. Peach might have been stronger and faster than both of them, but physics was physics. The blade careened out of the ring, officially off limits to her. Ruby gave a whoop and the stands cheered.

‘Go Ruby!’

‘Go Bella!’

Blake felt a momentary thrill. They were cheering for her. They wanted her to win.

_No, they want Bella to win._

‘Nicely done, girls!’ Peach’s smile was unperturbed. ‘Let’s take things up a notch.’

She hurled her remaining blade directly at Ruby, who didn’t even need to activate her semblance to sidestep it.

‘Is that…’ Ruby began before the hilt of the blade slammed into her back. She staggered forward, momentarily off balance. Peach’s knee caught her in the face and send her flipping onto her back.

The cheering in the crowd ended like someone had dumped ice water on them. Rather than finish Ruby off, however, Peach simply walked to the side and sheathed the long knife back under cloak.

‘Never assume that briefly gaining advantage will deliver you victory. Disarming your enemy is not defeating them. Tempo is the key to victory. They created a gap, yet failed to exploit it.’

Blake circled the ring as Ruby climbed back to her feet. The hit had been clean and direct, Ruby’s aura dropping almost to the yellow at the force. Blake’s was much the same after the hits Peach had landed and the use of two clones.

‘Are you alright?’

Ruby put a hand to her face and wiped away some of the blood from her nose. ‘Yeah, I…I feel great.’

Blake looked at her sharply. Ruby was grinning madly, a familiar light shining in her eyes. She was bouncing on her feet, twitching in her shoulders, head rocking from side to side as she loosened up her stance.

‘Ruby…’

‘She’s changed up her style,’ Ruby said. ‘I think we should change ours.’

‘What…’

‘Direct attack, follow me in.’ Ruby barrelled toward peach, petals exploding in her wake as she aimed herself at the professor like a bullet.

With a rustle of fabric, Peach’s skirt split down the outside of each leg.

 _So that’s where she was hiding her knives_ , Blake had a moment to reflect before the air became full of them.

\----------------------------

‘That is a _lot_ of knives,’ Nora whispered, her eyes wide.

Yang couldn’t help but agree. In the ring below, Ruby and Bella had been engulfed in a whirlwind of steel. Peach was throwing and retrieving her knives in a seamless rhythm. The two students were in constant motion, dodging, evading and trying desperately to hit Peach in the process. Occasionally Ruby would find an opening and descended in a flash of scarlet. And every time, Peach would simply contort herself around the blade or haft of Crescent Rose.

‘Is that her semblance?’ Jaune said. ‘Retrieving knives?’

‘Magnetism?’ Weiss said. ‘I don’t think so. Otherwise her aura would be dropping much faster. See the purple butterly inscribed on each blade? They glow whenever she retrieves them. Gravity dust. A small amount, but enough to retrieve them. If I had to guess, I’d say that she has an oppositely charged grav dust bracelet up each sleeve.’

‘She _is_ using her semblance, though,’ Ren said. ‘But it’s a slow trickle. Minor uses of her power that aren’t extracting a huge toll on her aura. Perhaps that is what is allowing her to evade Ruby so well?’

It was a theory, but not one Yang was convinced of. It wasn’t that Peach was faster, Yang was sure of that. Peach wasn’t reacting to the attacks on reflex. It just seemed like she always knew where to be to avoid them. A precognition semblance, maybe?

Nora was still enthralled by the ballet beneath them. ‘I mean…that almost seems like an excessive amount of knives. Wouldn’t the weight slow her down?’

‘Nora, you fight with a warhammer,’ Weiss said.

Nora held up her right arm and flexed.

‘Fair point,’ Weiss said.

A frown was slowly growing on Jaune’s face as he looked down at the fight. ‘What’s up with Bella?’

‘What do you mean?’ Yang said. ‘There’s a lot up with Bella, I thought we all agreed that…’

Pyrrha shook her head. ‘No, I see it too. She’s not even attacking anymore, just evading.’

‘That’s not her style at all.’

‘See for yourself.’ Pyrrha pointed. ‘Look, there was a gap just then when Peach was still retrieving some knives. Bella could have exploited that to take the pressure of Ruby. Ruby saw it as well, but she wasn’t in the right place to take advantage.’

It didn’t make sense to Yang either, but whatever Bella’s faults, she’d always been dependable in the ring. ‘Maybe Bella just didn’t see the opening?’

‘You think Ruby saw an opportunity that Bella missed?’ Ren’s tone indicated how unlikely he found the proposition. ‘Bella’s form is…off.’

\------------------------------

‘Evading is a good strategy, but not if it’s costing you more energy than your opponent.’ Peach shoulder checked Blake before she could drop a clone. She sprawled backwards, wincing at the drop her aura. ‘Soon or later, they’ll adapt.’

As before, Peach didn’t bother to finish her off as she was down. Instead she backed away, allowing Blake to regain her feet.

‘Bella, what are you doing?’ Ruby said as she came up beside her. ‘We’re meant to be working together.’

‘You’re the one disobeying my orders,’ Blake hissed back. ‘I told you to stay on the outside and chip at her aura.’

‘That’s not working.’ Ruby twirled her scythe, restless energy in her eyes. ‘She’s too quick for your clones. We need to attack together. Just one of us won’t work.’

‘Could you please stop spinning that thing near my face?’ Blake snapped back. Ruby took a step away, confusion on her face.

‘I’m not going to hit you…’

‘Forgive me if I don’t exactly have full faith in your _control_.’

The words landed like a gut punch. Ruby backed away, confusion and hurt warring on her face as her scythe went slack in her hands. ‘Bella, I…’

‘Just stay out of my way!’ Blake sprinted toward Peach, an idea coalescing in her mind. Peach had noted that a foe would adapt to evasion, but considering how much Peach relied on that tactic, it was unlikely that she’d meant the words idly.

It was a challenge.

Peach’s hands moved fast, daggers shooting past Blake’s head as she twisted to evade them. This time, as Peach summoned them back, Blake was ready. She ducked, both daggers flying past her head to land back in the professor’s hands. Peach slashed at Blake as she charged, only for the blades to travel clean through the clone. Without missing a beat, Peach stabbed toward her left hand side.

And missed.

Blake had gone on her left, yes. But not to attack. Rather, she grabbed all three strips of Peach’s cape and pulled. Peach took a step to maintain her balance, her hand hitting a quick release at her throat to prevent Blake from steering her with the garment. In reply, Blake threw the cloak directly at her face, pulsing her aura at the last second.

The wind dust laced into the butterfly wings triggered in response. Peach tried to evade, but instead was hit square in the face and torso by what amounted to a rocket powered net. She slid back, boots flaring as she triggered something, perhaps earth dust, to bring her to a halt. One hand snatched the cloak away from her face as the other threw a dagger on pure instinct.

She missed again.

Blake seized the extended hand before it could chamber another knife. She twisted it, as if attempting to put Peach in an elbow lock. Peach reached around with her other hand to strike at Blake’s ribs. The second she felt the impact, Blake dropped her clone and squeezed Gambol Shroud’s secondary trigger.

She’d kept a few useful items from her robberies. Peach was left with both hands trapped in a clone of ice, a shocked gasp escaping her lips.

Even then her reflexes were freakish. She flung a back kick at Blake, but without leverage the strike lacked power. Blake caught it, leaving Peach balanced precariously on one foot and heaving uselessly to free her arms. Blake knew she only had moments. She reached for her cleaver, planning on bringing it crashing down on Peach’s knee.

‘Hold her still, Bella!’ A triumphant squeal reached her ears. ‘I’ve got this!’

Ruby sprang at them, twisting into a blur as she raised her scythe high for a finishing blow.

Blake’s chest burned as she fell backwards, hands raised to protect her face. _‘No!’_

\--------------------------

Yang shot to her feet as her team leader screamed. ‘Stop the fight!’

Even as she spoke, it was over. With a pulse of her aura, Peach smashed free of the ice clone and threw herself over Bella’s prostrate form. She needn’t have bothered. Still in mid-air, Ruby folded her scythe back into sniper-mode, fired a grav dust round to her right and executed a controlled landing in the middle of the ring.

‘Bella!’ She took a step toward her.

_‘Stay away from me!’_

‘It’s alright! It’s alright!’ Peach waved her off. ‘I hit her a bit harder than I meant to. She’ll be fine.’

‘Remain in your seats!’ Goodwitch’s voice cracked like a whip. ‘Peach, please take Miss Ebony to the infirmary. We’ll move into our next spar. This time I want you to consider creative uses of dust beyond just ammunition. Pay particular to how Miss Ebony combined dust with her semblance and how Professor Peach utilised it in her clothing and footwear.’

As the stands began to settle, Peach helped Bella to her feet and began escorting her toward the exit. Ruby took another step toward them, then jumped as Professor Goodwitch rested a hand on her arm.

‘Take your seat, Ruby.’

‘But Professor, I…’

‘I saw everything,’ the professor’s voice was uncharacteristically gentle. ‘You did nothing wrong, Ruby. Professor Peach is helping Bella. You should take your seat.’

Ruby turned away, but not before giving one more reluctant glance at the departing pair. She caught Bella’s eyes for just a moment.

Yellow eyes were wide with terror.

She couldn’t help but feel like she’d seen them before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I ended up gutting most of Oobleck's lesson on the Faunus War as well as a huge chunk of Sun talking about life as a faunus in Atlas. Both because they were getting too wordy and also because it just felt like the wrong place and time to have those conversations.


	20. 'the man who broke'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roman deals with treason as Blake is confronted by a professor. Ruby and Ozpin share a pleasant walk and a not so pleasant discussion about Raven.

‘You need to understand, this wasn’t anything that I thought would be coming,’ Roman said. ‘Of all the people in this town that I thought I could depend on, it was you two.’

Before him, Huck and Rhiannon Lever stared mutely at the floor in front of his chair. They didn’t cut quite the elegant figure they usually did, what with their faces bruised and their clothes torn. Being on their knees with their hands bound behind their backs was another detraction.

Roman lazily tossed his hat onto the stand by the bar. He didn’t need to look to know that he’d landed it perfectly. A cheap parlour trick for a trained huntsman, but the theatre was in session and he could afford to indulge. ‘My apologies for interrupting your anniversary dinner, by the way. I thought about having this chat tomorrow instead, but it’s looking like a busy week so I decided to move up the timeline.’

That and snatching them at their actual home would have meant tangling with one of their bodyguards. The Levers were better thieves than fighters, which was why they employed people to fight for them.

‘We all know that honour amongst thieves is a…dicey concept, at best.’ Roman paused to take a sip from the mug at his side. ‘After all, we _are_ in the business of breaking laws. I prefer to think of it as a hierarchy among thieves with some commonly accepted codes. My favourite of those codes is _don’t start any conflict you’re unlikely to win_. And you, my friends, have most definitely gone against that precept.’

Rhiannon, as usual, was the first to grovel. ‘Mr. Torchwick, I’m not sure what this is all about, but I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding.’

Roman didn’t have to fake the disappointment in his eyes. The dark and sultry to her husband’s bright and airy, eminently skilled at playing the socialite and with a nifty forging semblance to boot, she was one of the few people in his organisation that he’d counted as a genuine fake friend. Still…

‘Oh? Then I misunderstood that you two recently ripped off about three hundred grand worth of jewellery and told Lonergan not to send me my cut?’

The fake smile froze on her lips. Roman sighed heavily. Per haps there _was_ part of him that had hoped the information was false or exaggerated. The bad news tended to be real, in his experience, but wasn’t it better to live in hope?

‘Who used to be the top thief in this town, Huck?’

The man licked his dry lips. ‘Myrtle.’

‘And what happened to Myrtle?’

‘You killed him.’

‘And?’

‘You killed him…and you killed every one of his crew that wouldn’t swear loyalty.’

‘But you _did_ swear loyalty!’ Roman stood up and both of them flinched back. Neo seized both of them by the hair, holding them in place as they tried to cower away. ‘You and your lovely wife both agreed to my terms and in exchange I agreed not to dump you in the harbour in cement shoes. And yet, here we are. Months in arrears.’

‘Roman, we can get you your money.’ Rhiannon winced as Neo pulled her hair sharply. ‘Mr. Torchwick, I mean. With the Vytal Festival coming up there’ll be enough fresh marks in town to…’

‘Rhi, Rhi.’ Roman clicked his tongue. ‘If it was just a question of money, we’d be sitting down over a nice lunch and discussing a fair payment plan. But when you start telling every fence in town that I’m on my way out? That hurts. Hits me deep inside. Your kids call me Uncle Roman for crying out loud.’

‘Roman, I swear. We can make this right. We can make all of it right.’

‘Yep. On that we’re agreed. Neo?’

Neo yanked Huck’s head back, her swordstick coming across his throat and the edge pressing deep into his throat. Rhiannon screamed, struggling furiously against her bindings. Huck squeezed his eyes tight, perhaps attempting to hide his helpless blubbering.

‘Wait, wait!’ Roman raised his hand. Neo paused, a curious eye flicking up. ‘Neo, what are the accounts looking like?’

She held up her free hand in a ‘so-so’ gesture. Roman gave a displeased grimace. ‘Have you been buying that artisan gelato again?’

Neo mimed licking an ice cream with a dreamy expression and Roman sighed heavily. ‘Typical. Ok, let me think about this…’

The husband and wife looked at each other, fear mingling with confusion as tears continued to stream down their faces.

‘Y’know, I have to say, this has all been very moving.’ Roman stood from his chair, swooping his cane up with a flourish. ‘Neo and I may not look it, but we’re romantics at heart. Right, Neo?’

She blew him a kiss. He caught it and tucked it inside his jacket. ‘Mistakes do happen, am I right?’

They both nodded furiously.

Roman rested a companionable hand on their shoulders. ‘And here’s the thing for me. I’ve learned to sleep pretty soundly over the years, but I don’t want to wrestle with the thought of your kids going hungry because you dumb _fucks_ got greedy. Do you?’

They shook their heads violently.

‘Good. So here’s what you’re gonna do. You’re gonna go home. You’re gonna hug your kids.’ His grip tightened and they cringed. ‘And then you’re going to go out, rob, cheat, gamble or whore yourselves for all I care. But whatever it is, me and Neo get half. And we get half from now until the day you drop dead of old age. And if I ever get cause to think that you’ve skimped or skimmed again, well…’

Neo’s blade flashed twice. The Levers cried out as matching cuts appeared on their cheeks.

‘…you’ll quickly find that the most terrifying thing about Neo isn’t how quickly she can demolish an affogato. Am I understood?’

Huck opened his mouth, but Roman held a single finger to his lips. ‘I don’t want to hear another word out of either of you. Just nod.’

They nodded.

‘Now.’ He held up his hand. ‘Shoo.’

Neo’s blade flashed again and their bindings dropped to the floor. Once the thieves had made their mad dash for the exit, Roman headed straight for the bar.

‘It’s a good thing you caught wind of that. Every crook in the city might have smelled blood.’ He rustled around until he found the gin and vermouth. ‘Do you think we’ll need to kill Lonergan?’

Neo nodded, for once without any malice. Roman completely understood. Untrustworthy employees could still be profitable with the right incentive, but an untrustworthy fence was a lost cause.

‘Hmm…I’ll make that visit myself. He and I go way back and, well, it’s better if I do it. I know how much you like him.’

Neo leaned over to give his hand a grateful squeeze. Roman squeezed back.

‘Do you feel like lunch?’

She nodded.

‘Noodles?’

She made a face.

‘Yeah, you’re right. Let’s get some pizza.’

The chime of his scroll cut off his attempt to finish pouring his drink. Neo stiffened, as did he. He’d designated that particular tone for messages from their least favourite person in Vale.

The message from Cinder was simple, a single photograph showing one of the sparring rings up at Beacon. Part of him wanted to sniff at it. Back in his day they’d just used the back lawn for combat training and fought until someone couldn’t get up. They hadn’t needed any of the fancy Atlesian tech for measuring aura.

His moment of nostalgia was cut short by a closer look. Cowering on the floor of the sparring ring was a young woman in a black and white bodysuit, her hair covered by a black beanie. Above her was a familiar figure in a white and scarlet cloak, a scythe held high.

The printed message beneath it was barely encoded.

_‘Is the Cat going to come out of the bag?’_

The spike of anger that shot through him was as quick as it was unexpected. Roman was seized by the sudden, irrational urge to hurl the offending scroll out the nearest window. The two things stopping him were the lack of any windows (the safehouse was technically more of a safe-basement) and that such an action would probably startle Neo and a startled Neo was a stabby Neo.

The back of the scroll was transparent and Neo had two eyes. When Roman lowered it, there was a simple question in them.

_‘When and where?’_

Roman lowered his face into his hands. He’d hoped to deal with this without Cinder knowing. Even so, it changed very little. It only moved up the timetable.

Neo’s delicate hands massaged the back of his head, easing some of the tension in his shoulders. The message was pretty clear.

_‘I’ll take care of this one.’_

‘I’ll get onto kitty-cat.’ Roman flicked over to her contact details. ‘Looks likes she’s going to have to soothe her conscience later. Better to rip the tape off quickly.’

Another squeeze.

‘Well of course we’ll eat first.’

\------------------------------------

‘Just breathe, Bella.’

_‘Just breath, Blake.’_

‘Here, drink this. You’re safe now.’

_‘Here, drink this. You’re safe now.’_

It was hot chocolate instead of warm soup. It was Professor Peach instead of Sienna. It was a random classroom instead of the boat back to Menagerie.

It was still a lie. There wasn’t any more safety here then there had been on Menagerie or back in Mistral.

‘I thought you said you were taking me to the infirmary,’ Blake said in a low voice.

‘Do you need to go to the infirmary?’ Peach said.

‘No.’

‘Then what would be the point of taking you there?’ Peach rested a hand on her shoulder, but removed it as soon as Blake tensed. ‘Unless you would like to see one of the staff counsellors?’

‘Do I have to?’

‘No.’

Blake shrugged. Peach took a few steps back and leaned against the desk. Blake looked down at the mug in her hands. She couldn’t remember Peach putting it there. She couldn’t remember arriving at the classroom. All she knew was that Ruby had been plummeting toward her with her scythe raised high.

She let out a small gasp as something hot scorched her fingers. Looking down, Blake saw that her hands had shaken the mug enough to spill chocolate over the edges. She took a sip on reflex. There would be less to spill the more she drank.

‘Bella.’ Peach’s voice called her mind back. ‘As a professor, there are some questions I’m legally required to ask you. You don’t have to answer them if you don’t want to, but I strongly encourage you be honest with me. Has a teacher or another student assaulted you at Beacon?’

If it wouldn’t have led to awkward questions, Blake would have laughed without pause. Technically, very technically, an emphatic _yes_. She just wasn’t sure that Peach would feel like disciplining Ruby for nearly eviscerating her during an armed robbery.

‘No.’

Peach’s eyes searched her face, but she showed no sign of detecting the lie. ‘I see. Have you experienced any bullying or harassment since you arrived at Beacon?’

‘No.’ _Just witnessed it multiple times and witnessed nearly every member of the student body stand by and watch._

‘I see.’ There was nothing in Peach’s eyes. Nothing, save a kind of mild sympathy that calmed and irritated her in equal measure. ‘Perhaps you could talk through what happened back there?’

‘Nothing happened.’ Blake said testily. ‘I saw Ruby coming in and I panicked. We all heard what happened down at the docks.’

‘According to Professor Goodwitch, you _don’t_ panic,’ Peach said. ‘In fact, your combat record in class surpasses all of your peers with the exception of Miss Nikos. You’re calm, collected and generally four or five steps ahead of everyone else. I have fifty lien on you to lead the winning Beacon team at Vytal.’

‘Is that legal?’

‘Point being,’ Peach continued. ‘Is that we hoped you could help Ruby ease back into combat training. That, given your own level of self-control, you’d be a solid mentor for her.’

‘Sorry to disappoint.’

‘I’m not disappointed, I’m concerned and so is Glynda. Is there anything you wish to tell me, Bella? Anything at all? At Beacon, before Beacon. I promise complete confidentiality.’

Blake’s eyes wandered over the classroom. She barely registered any of it, but it was better than trying to meet Peach’s eyes. If she even hinted at the truth, Peach would clap her in handcuffs and hand her straight over to whatever intelligence service Vale had that it pretended did not exist. After the demonstration in the sparring ring, Blake no longer had any doubts about her chances of escape. They were non-existent.

‘I’m sorry, but there’s nothing before or after Beacon that I can think of. I just got spooked.’

Peach didn’t respond immediately. She steepled her hands beneath her chin, eyes scanning Blake with an almost casual smile on her face.

‘The way you see the world fascinates me, Bella.’

‘I’m sure I’m nothing special.’

‘Every student is special in their own way, but that’s not exactly what I meant.’ Peach poured herself another mug of hot chocolate, cupping it in both hands as she sat down. Blake wondered if it was a calculated move? Bringing herself down to a student’s level to make herself seem less threatening?

Sienna would do something similar to skittish branch leaders or nervous backers. The trick with a confrontation was to make them aware of the power imbalance without making them defensive.

‘What did you mean?’ Blake masked her mouth with her own mug, taking a deep sip and trying to genuinely relish the rich flavour.

‘I mean that most of our students come here with a fair degree of training experience. Some, especially from the outer settlements, have even seen fighting against Grimm. In rare instances, some have even fought bandits or pirates. But it’s rare that I see someone who reminds me so much of…well, _me_.’

‘I don’t think there’s much comparison between me and a veteran huntress.’

‘Sure there is.’ Peach offered a wide smile. ‘We’re both from Mistral. We both favour misdirection and deception in our fighting styles. We both have scarring on our left knuckles and the trace of a faint limp in the right leg indicating a childhood injury that healed quite well. And we both have a serious dislike for sitting anywhere with someone behind us, indicating what some would call trust issues and what I could call a healthy survival instinct.’

Blake plastered a smile across her face. ‘We’re practically sisters, if you think about it.’

Peach’s smile grew wistful. ‘I would have loved a sister growing up. What about you, Bella? Any sisters?’

‘None by blood.’ _Hundreds in arms._

‘It can be a lonely thing, being an only child. Sometimes it can leave you vulnerable.’

‘Thank you for your concern, but I had quite a happy childhood.’ Not quite a lie. Her childhood had ended early, but before then she had very few complaints. ‘Am I free to go? I’m going to miss lunch if I stay here much longer.’

‘You’re always free to go.’ Peach tilted her head. ‘I’m not a jailer, after all.’

Bella gave a quick nod, handing her mug back to Peach. ‘Thank you for your time, Professor.’

‘No, thank you. Helping students with difficulties is a privilege of this job, not a chore.’ Peach stood from her own chair. ‘I just wish I could have helped you.’

‘Maybe I didn’t need your help?’

‘That’s entirely possible.’ Peach sounded entirely too cheerful about that. ‘Maybe it’s not _my_ help that you need. Different frames of reference and all that. Tell you what, it’s just more sparring after lunch and then some study periods. Take the rest of the day and head into town. See a movie, hit up a bar. Maybe you’ll find someone you can talk to there.’

Blake was sure that if she had more energy she’d be verging on rage at the assumptions the professor was making. ‘How are you so sure that I need to talk to anyone?’

Peach shrugged. ‘Same way I knew where you’d be for most of that fight. A bit of experience, a bit of intuition. We all need someone to talk to. Sometimes just someone to talk _at_. Doesn’t have to be me or your friends, but you’re a smart girl. I’m sure you’ll figure something out.’

‘Maybe what I need is for people to stop telling me what to do?’

‘Mmm…’ Peach raised an eyebrow over the rim of her mug. ‘I think that’s the first truly honest thing you’ve said in here.’

Blake cut off the withering retort before it could cross her lips. She didn’t trust herself not to give something important away. She turned to the exit and stormed out, slamming the door behind her and leaving Peach alone, sipping her hot chocolate in the dark.

\--------------------------------------

‘An excellent round from Mr. Wukong and Miss Sustrai. However, Mr. Arc and Mr. Ayana are to be commended for their excellent defensive strategy. With more cover and a larger area to fight in, it could very easily have proved a winning formula.’

There was a polite round of applause, perhaps a little heavier than it needed to be from JSPR as Jaune trotted back with a rueful grin.

Goodwitch checked her watch, a number of faces perking up in sudden hope. ‘We have about ten more minutes, but I shall send you to lunch early. Reflect on you’ve seen and learned this morning. Always remember that a huntsman who only works with one partner will only ever learn to fight one way.’

Yang leaned down to ruffle Ruby’s hair as they stood up. ‘Good showing from Team JSPR, sis.’

Jaune sighed. ‘I lost, though.’

‘And I didn’t even get to fight at all.’ Weiss looked genuinely dejected. ‘If I don’t start fighting new people then how am I going to learn their strategies before the tournament?’

‘Patience, my glory hungry snowflake.’ Ruby gave a sinister cackle as she rubbed her hands together. ‘You get to watch their strategies, but they have not yet seen yours either.’

An evil light appeared in Weiss’ eyes. ‘Of course…I shall be an enigma to them. A wild horse. A dark card.’

‘Mildly creepy.’ Yang positioned herself behind Pyrrha, who gave a resigned shrug.

‘You learn to embrace the chaos.’

‘Speaking of chaos, have either of you ladies found dates to the dance yet?’ Ruby had slipped behind them with a quickstep. Pyrrha’s cheeks quickly turned as red as her hair, whilst Yang simply smirked.

‘Maybe I’m waiting for the right person to ask?’

‘You have never once waited to be asked to a dance.’ Ruby fired back. ‘You’ve already done it, haven’t you?’

Yang flicked a glance at Sun, who winked straight back. ‘Well, if I hadn’t gotten in early, someone else might have tried. And you know how jealous I get.’

‘You don’t get jealous at all.’

‘I’d be willing to make an exception.’

‘Ugh.’

‘It’s just a dance, Rubes.’ Yang rolled her eyes. ‘We haven’t even been on a date. Yet.’

‘Yet?’

‘Let’s just say we both will be spending an hour or two at the same table at Charisma Tea Rooms this afternoon.’

Ruby’s eyes widened with sudden greed. ‘They do those freakshakes, don’t they?’

‘Ruby…’

‘I think I should come along,’ Ruby said hurriedly. ‘For chaperoning purposes of course.’

‘That’s ridiculous. I’m eighteen in two weeks, you can’t just…’

‘Unless you want Dad to know that you’re dating a boy?’

Yang turned pale. ‘You wouldn’t…?’

Ruby tutted. ‘Yang…you already know I would.’

Pyrrha paused on the stairs. ‘What’s so bad about Mr. Xiao Long finding out Yang’s seeing someone?’

‘He might ask them to go fishing.’ Yang gave a shudder.

‘Oh…is he overprotective?’

‘Oh no.’ Ruby shook her head. ‘Dad trusts us to date whoever we want. But the last boyfriend of Yang’s that Dad took out fishing…’

‘Hadrian,’ Yang added.

‘…wound up preferring fishing with Dad to hanging out with Yang. I don’t think she’s ever really recovered from that. Or forgiven Dad.’

‘I have a weakness for blonde idiots,’ Yang bemoaned. ‘Like my mother before me.’

They pushed out into the corridors, following the mob of hungry students toward the cafeteria. Ruby was just considering switching targets to Pyrrha and her own intentions toward a certain blonde when a new voice intruded in their conversation.

‘Ruby!’ Professor Ozpin was standing in the doorway of one of the smaller sparring rooms, along with Doctor Oobleck. ‘Might I have a moment of your time?’

For a bizarre moment, Ruby wondered if she was in trouble. But given the mild expression on Ozpin’s face, as well as the sweat soaked sparring gear he wore, she could have hardly imagined a less official setting for a reprimand.

‘Of course, Professor.’ She gave Yang a quick nod, an unspoken reassurance and a quiet plea to save her a plate.

‘Thank you for the spar, Barty,’ Ozpin said. ‘I’ll pass on what you said to Port, but I doubt he’s in any place to take advantage of those ruins.’

‘Of course.’ Oobleck nodded. ‘But if he could take a few pictures for me it would be highly appreciated.’

Ozpin nodded, the doctor taking it as a dismissal as he moved in the opposite direction.

‘What was that about?’ Rub enquired.

‘One of our faculty is on sabbatical at the moment,’ Ozpin said. ‘A study tour in Southern Vacuo I believe.’

That sounded vaguely familiar to Ruby. ‘Uncle Qrow said he was going for a study tour there as well.’

‘Really? Such a small world. Such incredible coincidences.’

\------------------------------------

Port sighed as the sun began to set over the ruins. ‘Barty would have loved it here.’

The bandit paused as he finished tightening the noose around Port’s neck. ‘You’re quite calm for a man about to be hanged.’

‘Well, I cannot deny that death’s sweet embrace would be a balm to my daily suffering…’

‘That’s just rude,’ Qrow said from where his own noose was being tightened.

‘…sadly I already know that whilst it would be bad luck to be hanged today, it would be worse luck if the scaffold collapsed, or an earthquake swallowed us or….’

 _‘Grimm!’_ One of the bandits screamed. ‘Hundreds of them!’

Port sighed. ‘Or that.’

\----------------------------------------

‘Glynda mentioned that there was an incident during sparring this morning. Miss Ebony had an…ill reaction, I believe?’

‘I don’t know why she froze like that,’ Ruby said. ‘It was just a spar. I was…I was enjoying myself, but I wasn’t losing control. It was just…something in her eyes. She was afraid of me. Did I look like I was going to lose control?’

‘Not according to Miss Goodwitch. She said you fought a remarkably clean fight with a great deal of personal control.’

They had proceeded out of the building, moving along one of the many meandering paths of Beacon toward the cafeteria. In the shadow of the central tower, Ruby was reminded just how large the campus was. Almost a small city in its own right, it was scarce a wonder that some students had chosen to start zipping across campus on scooters or skateboards. Professor Goodwitch had wanted to ban them, she’d heard, but Ozpin had overruled her on the grounds that it would stifle creativity.

‘I should have noticed she was getting nervous around Crescent Rose.’ Ruby’s eyes fell to the ground. ‘I should have been more sensitive, listened to her. I almost killed someone at the docks…’

‘Yes. Almost. I heard that Miss Ebony had gone to the effort of researching the fate of Roman Torchwick’s accomplice. A surprisingly thoughtful move for a girl your sister told me was selfish and prideful.’

‘Sometimes it feels like Yang was right anyway. Bella can just be so…difficult.’

‘Yang showed great maturity in attempting to reconcile with her,’ Ozpin noted. ‘Taking ownership of a situation is not just a sign of growth, it is the mark of a true huntress. Especially since she was not to blame for it.’

‘I’m not sure she really meant some of the apologies she made to Bella.’

‘Real or fake, it takes strength of character to abase ourselves before anyone, especially those we are in conflict with. You showed it yourself, I understand. Changing your mind about going to Atlas took a great deal of humility.’

Ruby felt a blush come on at the compliment. It was one thing to be praised for fighting. It felt quite different to be complimented for maturity and judgement. It made her feel…well, like a grown up.

‘Do you think it was the wrong choice? Wanting to go to Atlas and give up on being a huntress?’

Ozpin tapped a finger against his jaw, his gaze flicking over the lawns and buildings of Beacon to rest on the tower itself. ‘I’m not sure I could say with any certainty if it was a good or bad decision. You might have done great things as a weapons designer, perhaps greater than you might as a huntress. Do you think you would have been happy with it?’

Ruby had spent a long time thinking about it. ‘I don’t know. I think I would have enjoyed it.’

‘Just not as much as you enjoy fighting?’

Ruby went silent at that. Ozpin allowed the silence to sit between them, their boots continuing to make a rhythm on the paved path toward the cafeteria.

‘Professor…you knew my mother.’

‘Are you asking me about Summer or Raven?’

‘Raven,’ Ruby said, her voice soft. She could sense Ozpin’s mood change.

‘Ask away, Ruby. If it’s within my power to answer, I will.’

Ruby took a deep breath. She’d avoided asking the question of any of the faculty. They’d offered their opinions at the start of semester, but still…

‘Do I remind you of Raven.’

‘Yes.’

Ruby blinked. ‘Oh…’

‘You’re strong-willed, determined, passionate, ambitious…’

A sense of disappointment overwhelmed the shock. ‘No offence, Professor, but Dad says the same thing. He goes on and on about her good qualities. He never says if he sees any of her bad ones.’

‘Those were her bad ones.’

She stopped in her tracks. ‘What?’

‘A strong will unchecked simply becomes obtrusive stubbornness. Passion without discipline can be selfish and harmful. Ambition without restraint can lead to a mindless lust for power. And it is completely possible to be determined to do things which are…well, evil.’ Ozpin walked a few paces ahead of her. ‘And Raven has done evil in this world, there can be no denying that.’

It was strange, even after hearing it so many times from Uncle Qrow, even after saying it to herself again and again, part of Ruby still bristled at the words. But when Ozpin turned back, there was no anger or resentment on his face, like Uncle Qrow would have. Just sadness.

‘Raven’s crimes are not due to her lacking noble qualities. Rather, they are because she chose to use them for ignoble purposes. But it was not always so. Like Qrow, it seemed like she would leave behind the violence and malice that defined her childhood.’ Ozpin smiled, a wistful, fragile thing. ‘She fought for the innocent and the weak against terrible odds. There are people alive today who would have died without her bravery and strength.’

The smile faded. ‘And there are some who have died by her hand who should have lived. But those decisions, good and evil, were her own to make. What she chose to do with the gifts she had will forever be on her hands and hers alone. She chose to surrender to her worst impulses. No one made those decisions for her.’

‘Dad said I could never be like her.’ Ruby bit her lip. ‘But…well, he’s _Dad_.’

‘And he was right to tell you that,’ Ozpin said firmly. ‘You have qualities that Raven lacked. She was not without compassion, but it was limited to those she held dear. You, on the other hand, have shown it even to your enemies. You have a respect for life that she did not. But that is not always a safeguard against corruption.’

‘But a huntress _should_ care for life.’ Ruby’s protest was sudden and urgent. ‘That’s our purpose. That’s our mission. We fight to protect life.’

‘That is the ideal,’ Ozpin agreed. ‘Someone who fights for what is right purely because it is right. And yet, we no longer live in an age of heroes. The time of the knight-errant has passed. I suppose I am…flattered, really, that you still hold such virtues in high regard.’

Ruby was afraid of the answer, but the need to ask was too great. ‘Don’t you?’

‘Till my dying breath.’ There was no bravado in the words. ‘But I remember another huntsman, very similar to you, who also held such ideals. Like you there was a _purity_ to his beliefs. The role of a huntsman, his purpose, was to fight for _every_ life no matter the odds. That raw belief drew people to him like moths to a flame.’

The words should have inspired her. But the dullness in his tone made Ruby flinch. ‘What happened to him?’

‘What usually happens to those of greater ability. Fate chose him for greater challenges. At a moment of great crisis, he was presented with a choice: Save thousands at the cost of thousands more, or fight to save everyone and risk utter destruction.’

‘What…what did he choose?’

Ozpin’s silence said it all.

‘Oh.’

‘Thousands lived. Thousands died. He could not reconcile the contradiction. He buried himself in drink, in cards, in women. I tried to reach him. I failed. It wasn’t long before the huntsman I had trained disappeared into his grief and self-loathing. When I next saw him he was…unrecognisable.’

‘So what?’ Ruby’s mood sank like a stone. ‘You can have the best intentions and still fail?’

‘Ruby, failure it not an end.’ A fond look overcame the melancholy on his face. ‘Were you to put myself, Leo Lionheart, James Ironwood and Theodore Gale in the same room, you would be hard pressed to find a group that had experienced more failure in their lives. But we have all learned to accept our failures and strive onwards. Like you.’

Ruby bit her lip. ‘But I ran away…I was afraid…’

‘And you came back.’ Ozpin rested a hand on her shoulder. ‘Who can say what tomorrow will bring? Victory and defeat will both come in time. For now, at least, you have shown the courage to keep going. To strive onwards in pursuit of your goals.’

‘And what if they lead me somewhere horrible?’

‘Who can say? All you can do is picture the woman you seek to be. Day by day, week by week, striving to become her. Surely it is better to try, fail and try again than never attempt it?’

‘I guess…’ They weren’t bad words, she supposed. Just…too easy to accept. She wanted to accept them. Was eager to, even. Just… ‘I just don’t want anyone to get hurt.’

‘Nor do I,’ Ozpin said, giving a gentle nod toward Vale. ‘Seek the path of least harm for the greatest possible number. Perhaps that is the only wisdom I have learned of any value.’

They stood for a moment, a gentle wind from the sound ruffling Ozpin’s hair. He was taller than her, Ruby knew, and seemed still to be in his physical prime despite his long years and faded hair. His good humour seemed unchanged, yet his eyes were weary and she fancies that his shoulders seemed burdened despite their lack of load. In that moment, Ruby felt she might have been looking at something…ancient.

‘Forgive an old man his dithering, Ruby.’ Ozpin shook himself out of whatever mood had taken him. He nodded toward the cafeteria. ‘I’ve kept you from your lunch long enough.’

Ruby gave an awkward half-bow, unsure of the formalities that were needed. ‘Thank you, Professor. I’ll think about what you said.’

He began to walk away, a clear whistle sounding from his lips as he strutted toward the CCT tower. Ruby’s curiosity, still flaring hot after the strange conversation, grew beyond her control.

‘Professor?’ She called, unsure if he would even deign to answer. ‘What was your student’s name?’

Ozpin turned to face her, and the smile left his lips once more. ‘Back then he was known by a different one, which I will not sully. These days, you would know him as Roman Torchwick.’

\-------------------------------------------

‘Pyrrha Nikos has a magnetism-based semblance,’ Shilling noted. She was tinkering with something inside her arm, the artificial epidermis parted to allow her access to the wires beneath. ‘I didn’t notice it until the end of the fight. She didn’t use it until she was hard pressed, and even then it was a very minimal use. If I was to guess, I’d say she’s trained herself to fight without it as much as possible.’

Cinder tried not to shudder at the sight of Watts’ creation peeling aside what looked exactly like living tissue as if it was rubber. ‘Are your systems damaged?’

‘A slight malfunction in some of my circuitry.’ Her frown deepened. ‘She must have been trying to affect the firing mechanism in my revolvers. Luckily my skeletal structure itself is titanium and therefore immune to magnetic fields. There are trace amounts of nickel, iron and cobalt throughout my body, however, which _can_ be affected. It would be tactically inadvisable for me to fight her in the future.’

‘We have plans in place for Nikos,’ Cinder said with a shrug. ‘If she tries to control metal during a fight with me, she’s in for quite a surprise.’

Shilling smiled thoughtfully. ‘How droll that a dirt-based semblance could prove so useful. My father would get quite a laugh out of that.’

Mercury snorted from where he was sprawled on the bed, an explosion of sudden laughter that cut off as quickly as Cinder glared at him. His look of contrition was unconvincing, but she didn’t have the time to properly chastise him.

‘And what about the Atlas puppet?’

‘Polendina’s vanity project?’ The sneer on Shilling’s lips was far too emotive to have been programmed. Cinder had seen it on her creator’s face more times than she cared to count. ‘Her design is far more simplistic than I thought. She has only pre-programmed combat patterns, albeit an extensive library of them. There is a small pause between each set as she loads the next. Undetectable to human senses, but they are there.’

‘Could you beat her alone?’

‘Easily.’ The reply was almost too fast. ‘I was programmed with an adaptive algorithm that allows me to tailor my fighting style to any opponent. Additionally, my weaponry allows me a series of long, medium and close range attacks that completely outclasses her rather limited arsenal.’

Emerald rolled her eyes. ‘We get it, you’re invincible.’

‘Far from it.’ Shilling’s smile suddenly returned, a demure edge to it. ‘I have been programmed with a strong self-preservation instinct. There are foes who outmatch me for raw power and I have a mandate to avoid combat with them. Fortunately, there are none amongst the _entirety_ of the student body.’

Cinder didn’t miss the intended slight, but then again she probably wasn’t meant to. Rather, she just returned the smile. ‘Then you should have no issue dealing with your android soror?’

‘Of course not.’ Satisfied with her tinkering, Shilling ran a finger along the cut. There was a slight hiss and the smell of burning flesh, then she pulled her glove back up her forearm, working her fingers with a pleasant expression. ‘One shilling is worth twelve pennies, after all.’

‘In that case, I should see to other pressing business.’ Standing, Cinder walked toward the cupboard where her civilian clothes rested. She ached to get out of the uncomfortable costume her current disguise required. Just a nondescript skirt and blouse would do for now. It was months till the Vytal Festival, and it wouldn’t do to wear the costume of a wanted murderer just yet.

She would leave the murders to Roman for the moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is likely the last of my rapid fire updates for a while with my holidays ending soon. Updates will probably drop back to one a week, likely on the weekends. Thank you all for sticking with the story thus far, and I hope that with the 20th chapter you're still enjoying it. We're about halfway through Arc 2 at the moment, and will be picking up the pace with a lot more White Fang content from the next chapter.


	21. 'the man who saw history'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blake weighs her family history in the balance and makes a choice. Yang and Sun enjoy a quiet moment as Ruby goes for a walk.

_‘Then the captain lunged at me, and had I been a second slower he would have skewered me to the mast!’_

_Blake gasped as Grampa pulled aside his collar to show the scar carved into his shoulder. ‘What did you do?’_

_‘The only thing I could,’ Grampa’s tone was grave. ‘He was a better swordsman by far. Fresher, stronger and his aura was higher. I signalled my first mate who signalled my best gun crew who shot him in the chest with the nine-pounder. Their first mate objected to that, but the second mate proved much more amenable and did me the favour of skewering him.’_

_‘And then you threw off the chains?’_

_‘Shh, shh, I’m getting to that.’ Grampa waved his hand. ‘Then I leapt down into the hold of the galley and slew both the overseers. I went from oar to oar, unchaining each rower as I went until I came to the end. There, a woman sat at the oar.’_

_‘And you were struck dumb by her beauty.’_

_‘And I was struck dumb by her beauty.’ Grampa clutched his chest. ‘I stood there staring at her for so long that she had to cough to remind me to unchain her. I carried her back to my ship and laid her upon my own bed…’_

_‘It was a rather dingy hammock!’ A voice called from the kitchen._

_‘…and served her the finest morsels from my galley...’_

_‘Salted fish and hard biscuit.’_

_‘…and waited on her hand and foot until she had recovered her strength.’_

_‘Well, that part is true at least.’ Nanna came out of the kitchen with a plate of biscuits and a pot of tea. She ruffled Grampa’s hair after she set them down. ‘He was very sweet. For a smelly pirate, that is.’_

_Grampa winked down at Blake as he offered her a shortbread. ‘Well, after months chained to the oar of a Mistral galley, your grandmother smelled none too fresh herself. At least until we went for a swim in the Bay of Stars…’_

_‘Which is a story for when she’s older.’ Nanna tweaked Grampa’s good ear._

_‘Can you skip to the end?’_

_Grampa raised an eyebrow. ‘But we haven’t even gotten to how your grandmother and I defeated the pirate hunters from Mantle off the coast of Argus. I thought you loved that fight?’_

_Blake yawned. Nanna giggled. Grampa pouted. ‘Fine, fine. Well, after three years pillaging the coast of Anima, taking Mistralian galleys and striking the chains off every faunus I found, the winds finally blew Red Fang back to the sunny shores of Menagerie. And there were we greeted by the Chief of Menagerie herself. I knelt before her, not knowing what to expect.’_

_‘And then she went past you to hug Nanna.’ Blake looked over at the woman in question._

_‘Indeed.’ Grampa turned Blake on his lap so they could both look at a painting of the moment. ‘As it happened, I had rescued no ordinary woman, but the heiress of Menagerie itself. Naturally, I wanted no reward for such a great service. All I wished was her blessing to marry her beautiful daughter.’_

_‘But she said no…’_

_‘But she said no.’ Grampa confirmed. ‘But then I pled my case with such eloquence and passion that she was moved to tears.’_

_‘We had already made a very convincing argument, really.’ Nanna tapped her fingers on her stomach. Blake was confused by Grampa’s smothered laughter._

_‘And so it came to pass that I, a penniless faunus from Vale, stole a fine ship, built a fine crew, sailed a fine voyage and married a fine wife.’ Grampa bopped a finger on her nose and chuckled at her grin._

_‘And you all lived happily ever after.’ Blake snuggled happily back into Grampa’s lap._

_‘Well, it’s not an easy life being Consort to the Chief of Menagerie, but I manage.’_

_‘A little too well at times.’ A new voice said from the door._

_Blake’s eyes opened wide. ‘Daddy!’_

_She bolted out of Grampa’s lap and into his arms, Dad lifting her up and swinging her around like she weighed nothing at all._

_‘Mmm, I missed you so much!’ Dad pressed a kiss to her hair before lifting her up onto his shoulders. ‘Have you been good for Nanna and Grampa?’_

_Blake nodded furiously. Dad looked up to Grampa for confirmation. Grampa stroked his beard thoughtfully._

_‘Well, she did pull my good ear and hide mice in my boots…’_

_Dad turned a reproving eye to Blake, who shook her head in alarm. ‘I didn’t!’_

_‘Oh?’_

_‘I might have hid a mouse in his boots…but he hid a rubber spider in my tea!’_

_‘It was indeed a fair retaliation,’ Grampa said. ‘She was very well behaved, son.’_

_‘Well then, I think I might have a present for a well-behaved girl…’ Reaching behind the door, Dad produced the most beautiful doll Blake had ever seen. ‘I found this little one on my travels in Atlas. Think she needs a friend?’_

_Blake nodded. ‘I’ll be her friend!’_

_With a final kiss to her brow, Dad nodded toward the playroom and set her down. ‘I need to talk with Nanna and Grampa. You go get to know your new friend.’_

_Blake pattered down the hall, slowly stroking the doll’s lustrous hazel locks. Behind her, she could hear the adults conversing in low voices._

_‘…conditions in Atlas?’_

_‘Atlas is as beautiful as advertised. And their hospitality was beyond reproach. Excellent accommodations, a formal reception, the gift exchange was quite popular with the media. Jacques Schnee even met with me.’_

_‘What was he like?’ Nanna said._

_‘The most charming man I’ve ever met,’ Dad said. ‘Gave me a dress for Chandra and that doll for Blake, cracked jokes about the pressures of married life and shared some fond reminisces of his daughters. I hoped that perhaps it might indicate a shifting of the SDC’s official stance.’_

_‘I’m guessing that didn’t last?’_

_‘The Council of Ten will not amend or repeal the faunus labour laws,’ Dad said, the distasteful edge in his voice hardening to cold anger. ‘Nor will they repeal the restrictions on faunus serving in the military or attending Atlas Academy, save by special exemption.’_

_‘Any faunus rich enough to pay for it, they mean.’ Nanna let out a heavy sigh. ‘I can’t say I didn’t expect it. What of the Hill girl? Did she get my letter?’_

_‘She did. She met with me for a quick cup of coffee and assured me that as soon as she has secured better conditions for every person in Mantle she will make faunus rights her top priority.’_

_Grampa growled. ‘I don’t suppose Mistral was any better?’_

_‘No. They made a lot of lip service about honouring the terms of the treaty, but given the anti-faunus signs on every hotel I tried to stay at, they’re dragging their feet. I left the Albain brothers to continue negotiations. If anyone can convince the Assembly that granting us that land is in their own best interests it would be them.’_

_‘You’re putting too much stock in negotiation.’ Grampa coughed, a deep, hacking sound that Blake knew would have Nanna coming over to rub his back. ‘Maybe its time to remind them why they made those promises in the first place?’_

_‘We don’t need another war,’ Dad said testily. ‘It’s only been six years since we finished the last one.’_

_‘Yes, and we won!’_

_‘We didn’t lose! There’s a difference! One victory didn’t mean…’_

_Blake’s ears fell flat as the arguing continued. She didn’t really understand how they could shout at each other so much. Didn’t they all want the same thing?_

\-----------------------------

‘Welcome to Tukson’s Book Trade! Every book under the sun!’ The bright-eyed girl behind the counter waved at Blake as she pushed through the door. ‘Are you after a specific book or are you just browsing?’

‘I was, um, looking for Tukson?’

‘He’s out back at the moment, but I’m sure I can help you find what you’re after.’ The girl waved her arm at the aisles of books. ‘We’ve got history, science fiction, biographies, the biggest comic section in town and,’ she dropped a wink, ‘a great selection of romance novels.’

Blake didn’t require a reminder that all her books, romance or otherwise, were now in the possession of some unwashed bandits in Northern Mistral, but there it was. Sienna had insisted on having her belongings posted from Mistral City itself, rather than just shipping them from Menagerie. Maybe Roman would lend her some lien to acquire some replacements? It’d have a price tag, but it wasn’t like she could get in any more debt than she was already.

‘I had a few special orders in,’ she said. ‘Could I speak with him?’

‘Sure, let me just check if he’s done with the stock take.’ The girl headed toward the door behind the counter. ‘Feel free to look around.’

It was the same girl from before. The one Tukson had told to go home before he’d speak with her. Sally…she’d mentioned something about cats. She knew Tukson was a faunus. Blake looked nervously over her shoulder. There was a single security camera in the corner. Now there would be video evidence of two White Fang members meeting together.

She shouldn’t have come. Not here. Turning in place, she moved quickly toward the door.

‘Miss Bella!’ A deep voice caught her before she reached the exit. ‘Sorry I made you wait. I believe I have that book you were after.’

Blake’s ears perked up under her beanie, the irritation of keeping them down momentarily forgotten as she whipped around to face him. ‘The Third Crusade?’

Standing by the counter, Tukson shook his head. The book in his hand was typically nondescript. Neither too fancy a cover nor too plain, nothing that would draw undue attention from police, huntsmen or a sharp-eyed intelligence agent. _Far Goes the Night_. A boring enough coming of age tale about a girl growing up, living and eventually dying of old age in the same idyllic village.

 _Remain in place. Continue as ordered._ Blake didn’t know why she’d hoped for anything else.

‘This arrived a few days after you checked in.’ Tukson moved over to a shelf full of biographies. She moved to join him, pretending to follow his hand as he moved it along the list of titles. ‘I imagine they thought you’d be checking in frequently with me.’

‘Well, you were a complete waste of my time on the first attempt.’ Blake made no attempt to hide her bitterness. ‘Besides, I got another book to read.’

‘Ah, I thought that might be you.’ Tukson chuckled. ‘It made sense. One moment we’re being pushed back on all fronts, the next we’re overpowering entire platoons with ice dust traps.’

‘Glad I could contribute.’

His smile vanished as quickly as it came. ‘From what I heard, you nearly contributed your life. That would have been a foolish waste.’

‘The foolish waste is leaving me here when I should be fighting.’ Blake’s voice dropped to a hiss. Tukson glanced at the back door with alarm.

‘Keep your voice down.’ He said in warning. ‘I have Sally on the stock take, but if you get any more worked up then she’s going to come looking.’

Blake wanted to bite back with exactly where and how he could put his stock, but there didn’t seem to be much point in chewing him out. Tukson was ultimately just a messenger. Shouting at him when she was angry at Sienna made no sense. She wasn’t any less angry for it.

‘Can you send a message back to Sienna?’

Tukson eyed her carefully, not nervous but with a calculated edge she was becoming all too familiar with at Beacon. From Roman, too. Everyone guessing at her motives. Everyone missing the point.

‘Might be. It’d be slow. My mail chain has to go through Mistral City and then up north before the courier takes it back south again. Call it two weeks out and then at least another two to respond. Is it urgent?’

‘It’s my request for reassignment.’

‘You haven’t been ordered to leave Vale.’

‘I know. That’s why I’m requesting to return to Mistral and join the fight against Atlas.’

Tukson snorted, a harsh and dismissive sound that raised Blake’s hackles immediately.

‘Is something funny?’ She stepped closer, demanding that he turn his full attention toward her.

‘Just how the list of our enemies keeps changing,’ Tukson said. ‘A few months ago it was just rogue Mistral militias we were meant to fight. Before that it was the SDC.’

Blake couldn’t believe either set of ears. ‘The militias attacked us and the SDC enslaved us. Are you telling me we should have let that go?’

‘We were the wronged party, no question.’ Tukson glanced back at her. ‘But it seems to me we weren’t actually at war with Atlas until Sienna Khan decided to shoot down dropships filled with food and medicine.’

‘It was…they were just using it as an excuse to take over. And as soon as they left the militia would be killing faunus settlers again anyway.’

‘Great.’ Tukson’s smile took on a morbid edge. ‘So now faunus get to die fighting Atlas troops instead of Mistral militias. Well, at least they’ll be more efficient about it.’

Blake clenched her fists tight, resisting the urge to brain him with the nearest book. ‘That’s defeatist talk. We have Atlas on the ropes. We’ve captured sixty of their men.’

‘Only another ten thousand or so to go, then?’

‘I…’

‘If we have them on the ropes,’ Tukson talked over her, ‘then why are you so eager to leave Vale?’

‘I…my cover is getting difficult to maintain. The unexplained absences keep adding up.’

‘Then stop adding them up.’ Tukson’s bafflement seemed genuine, or else Blake really might have lost her temper. ‘How do you think I’ve maintained a cover in Vale for so long?’

‘If I stop then the dust flow back to Mistral will dry up. We’ll…’ She bit her lip.

‘…you already know it’ll dry up if you go back to Mistral.’ Tukson finally picked a book off the shelf and offered it to her. ‘I knew I had a copy of this somewhere.’

Blake’s mouth was uncomfortably dry as she saw the title. ‘How did you know?’

 _Pierre Belladonna: The Fighting Faunus_. A portrait of her grandfather in his prime, like she’d sometimes seen hanging around the family mansion. Like then, he was wearing crisp Valean fashion, an elegant red coat over white breeches. The rapier that had hung in the dining room graced his hand once more, the edge pressed to the throat of a Mistrali slaver.

‘I know the eyes,’ Tukson said. ‘Belladonna eyes. Saw them in your father’s face, and your grandfather’s. First time was when I was a boy. Pressed aboard a Mistral steamer, shovelling fire dust into a boiler eighteen hours a day till the _Red Fang_ ambushed us crossing the strait to Vale. I saw your grandfather cut down a huntsman on the main deck and a huntress on the quarterdeck. He was a devil of a swordsman. Larger than life.’

Blake knew the stories. First Grampa’s impossible tales of grand adventure on the high seas, then daring battles against superior numbers during the March on Mistral. As a girl she had gone to sleep dreaming of the spray of the sea and the whistle of cannonballs through the rigging of a tall ship. Of gallant skirmishes against human slavers. Those were the stories she’d liked the best.

‘He was a great leader,’ Blake said.

‘Aye,’ Tukson said, nodding gently. ‘That he was. And so’s Sienna. Trouble is it’s always the great leaders that take us straight to war. Sometimes a mediocre leader is a bit better for everyone’s health.’

Blake’s lip curled. ‘Is that why they sent you to Vale?’

He surprised her by laughing, a ringing melody that set his shoulders shaking as he tried to muffle it with his fist. ‘You’re a sharp one, Miss, and no mistake. The funny thing is, you’re probably right. If I was still back in Mistral or on Menagerie, Sienna _would_ have sent me here. But it was your father that gave me this assignment. Told me to help the faunus in Vale any way I could and find whatever common ground there might be between us and humanity.’

‘And you started a bookstore.’

‘I like books. Books contain knowledge.’

‘And knowledge is the best weapon against ignorance, yeah, I’ve heard it before.’ Blake reached down and plucked up one of the books on the lower shelves. ‘I’m sure this copy of _My Two Ferocious Lovers_ will certainly reduce racial prejudice.’

Tukson eyed the lurid cover with a grin. ‘I have to make a living too, you know.’

‘You’re making a living while our people are fighting and dying.’

She’d said the wrong thing. Tukson straightened up, his eyes narrowing as all traces of his previous smile vanished.

‘I did my fighting, kid. I was at Lost Ridge and Cyrenaica. Froze in the winter and starved in the spring when Lagune burned the grain silos ahead of our offensive.’ Tukson snorted. ‘Do they still parrot that old line about him not knowing faunus could see in the dark? Ridiculous. You don’t fight an enemy for a year and not realise that half of them can fight in pitch black. He thought we’d be too tired and too worn out to stay awake at Fort Castle. He was almost right.’

Blake stayed silent. Tukson’s eyes were far away, the fingers of his left hand tapping insistently at his thigh.

‘He was so young…’ Tukson murmured. ‘Couldn’t have been more than twenty seven, twenty eight. A boy leading an army of boys. That’s probably what shocked General Belladonna the most. He thought we were fighting some corrupt old noble…well, it didn’t matter in the end.’

‘What does a dead Mistral general matter?’

Tukson shrugged casually. ‘History tends to repeat itself. These days they call Lagune a failure for losing despite a three to one advantage. They don’t mention that most of his army were poorly armed and poorly trained militia whilst we were battle-hardened veterans, or that his political superiors were forcing him to attack before he was ready, or that he died leading the rearguard action that allowed half his force to escape in good order. He’s just Lagune the Failure.’

‘And?’

‘And now the boot’s on the other foot. Now Sienna’s leading an army of half-trained children at a corps of veterans. Fighting Atlas isn’t like fighting Mistral. They have ten thousand infantry in their standing army. Sienna can draw pinpricks, but she knows as well as any other faunus veteran not to fight them in open combat.’

Blake gritted her teeth. ‘They have us in numbers, but…’

‘Numbers. Armour. Weaponry. Discipline. Standardised training across the board. We can ambush them. Raid them. Try and make it costly as hell to fight us. But muzzle to muzzle? They’ve got us beat. I know it. She knows it. Your father knew it. We were all there the last time.’

Tukson turned sharply, walking back down the aisle toward the counter. His left hand had begun to fidget with his belt, gripping the leather and pinching it between his fingers. ‘Riding high after Fort Castle. Feeling like nothing in the whole world could stop us all the way to Mistral City. Just a tiny bastion, a small redoubt with a couple of hundred survivors from Lagune’s army and a hundred reinforcements from Atlas. And what did we think about that?’

Blake paused. This was a story she had never heard. According to Grampa and Dad, the war had ended at Fort Castle. They hadn’t even tried to march on Mistral City. They had simply named their terms, accepted the surrender and gone home. ‘I…I don’t know.’

‘Well we laughed, didn’t we?’ Tukson leaned back against the counter. ‘We laughed ourselves hoarse. What could five hundred do against seven thousand? After we’d slaughtered the main body of the Mistral army at Fort Castle? After Mantle had been shattered at Vacuo during the Great War? Atlas was just Mantle with a new coat of paint, and we weren’t afraid of them.’

He pressed his hands to his lips, a quiet laugh seeping through them. ‘Two thousand faunus dead and wounded and we still couldn’t breach the walls. Day or night attack didn’t make a difference. We hit them with captured artillery, we planted mines, we tried attacking by air. Nothing. They refused to yield. We tried to starve them and they still wouldn’t give up that pathetic little stockade. Your father said we should just bypass it, but your grandfather refused to leave it. Said that if one bastion could defy us then there was no way the city would give up.’

Tukson took a deep, shuddering breath. ‘The thing about Fort Castle is that it was quick. Once they realised they couldn’t win, they started running straight away. But that stockade…it’s like they’d stopped caring if they lived or died. We charged the walls by night and they fired, volley after volley, until our dead were stacked up to chest height. We got over the walls and they fought us with bayonets and canister shot. I split a woman’s head open with my axe, blood and brains everywhere, then I hit one of the gunners in the ribs and damn near cut him in two…’

‘Tukson…’ Blake reached a hand up to his shoulder. He didn’t shy away. She doubted that he was present enough to do so.

‘I saw a woman go by me swinging her rifle like it was a club, killed my best mate and the two behind him and laughed like a maniac. Kept screaming about how she was awaited by her ancestors. No one could bring her down, she broke half my ribs for trying. I was lying there, being trampled by my side and their side and all the cowards and heroes among them. I watched some young Atlas officer take a rapier through his stomach and _still_ find the strength to stab your grandfather in the chest and bite his ear off.’

‘So what?’ Blake snapped. ‘What does it matter? The Mistral Assembly still sent peace envoys. We were still promised farmlands and fishing grounds. Those promises were made in good faith…’

‘They were made under the threat that we’d sack Mistral City. Godsdamnit, girl, I was _there!_ ’

Blake stepped back, startled. There was anger in his voice, but not at her. He wasn’t even looking at her. He was staring, first at the wall, then at the counter, then at the shelves. Eyes traveling too and fro without purpose or direction.

‘We got our peace. Atlas was never going to spend much blood to protect Mistral from its own mistakes and they all knew it. We got our peace…then what? Pierre and Ghira Belladonna went back to the Chief’s mansion. But what about their army? I was a boy, then a slave, then a soldier and then a lost young man who didn’t know how to do anything but shovel dust and slit throats and I probably would have been buried in an early grave if your father hadn’t offered me something better.’ Tukson’s face twisted, his eyes red. ‘The White Fang was a _promise_. A promise that there would be something better than bloodshed for all of us. I came to Vale to help the faunus here, not to kill more humans.’

Blake looked away, her own anger swelling in response. ‘If you’re going to give me another lecture about how violence doesn’t solve anything, then don’t bother. I’ve seen it proved wrong too many times. Mistral used violence to solve their problems with us, and we use it right back. And it…’

‘It works.’ Tukson finished her sentence for her. ‘I don’t question that. Violence works great. Kill the person who’s trying to kill you and they’ll stop trying. Can’t argue with that logic.’

Blake paused. She’d heard the self-righteous speeches from older faunus before. About how they couldn’t lower themselves to violence. About how they would disgrace themselves if they deigned to fight back against those who sought to take their lives.

‘The trouble, Miss Belladonna, is that it doesn’t stop. Can’t stop. Once you let war out of the cage it keeps going and going. Your father saw that. It’s why he agreed to the peace. It’s why I agreed with him.’

‘You agreed to bow and scrape for humanity?’

‘I agreed,’ Tukson said, ‘that it was better to achieve our goals through a long, slow march than a brief and brutal war that we stood no chance of winning. Your father had the patience to see that through. Sienna doesn’t.’

He reached out slowly, his hand taking her rest as his eyes bored into hers. ‘I’m not questioning your bravery, nor your willingness to die for our cause. But wars aren’t won by dying. They’re won by killing. And I can’t do that anymore. Your father couldn’t either. I don’t think you want to start.’

‘Everyone fails at the end. They’ll cry and scream and beg for just one more minute of precious life. They’ll realise no cause, no matter how great, was worth watching your own blood seep into the soil and turn to mud. That’s what Sienna is leading our children into.’

He wiped his sleeve across his face. ‘She should know _better_. She should have taught _you_ better.’

‘I’ve been on missions,’ Blake said, her defences raised. She didn’t know she was surprised that another old hand was trying to question her experience and capability to…

‘Have you killed anyone, Miss Belladonna?’

She was silent for a moment too long.

‘I didn’t think so. See, it leaves a mark.’ Tukson’s hand continued to grip Blake’s wrist. ‘Every kill leaves a mark. Watching someone scream and die with your blade buried in their guts…no one goes quietly. No one dies with dignity. No one says _oh dear_ in a quiet voice and drops off to the long sleep. Sometimes they don’t die until you make them die, you understand?’

‘I…’

‘Do you _understand?_ ’ Tukson shifted so that he now gripped both her shoulders. ‘You have the chance some of us never get. You can walk away. You can leave all of this behind. Become a huntress and dedicate your life to doing good. To saving people without bias for who they are. You could do real good. Live the life your father would have wanted for you.’

Blake stared at him, mouth slack as she processed what he was saying. ‘You think…I should just run away?’

‘Run away from a war that’ll kill you, yes,’ Tukson said. ‘If I could, I would. But I’ve got people to think of here in Vale. You could go to Vacuo. Change your name, start again. You’ll have some regrets, but you won’t have to live as a murderer. Bella…Miss Belladonna, whatever your name is now…’

Blake pulled away from him, slipping clear without needing a clone. He didn’t chase her, the forlorn look in his eyes showing everything without interference.

‘I get it,’ she spat. ‘I do. I’ve heard it before. From you and everyone else who seems to know exactly how I should live _my_ life. I stand here and I listen to all of you saying I should go to Beacon, or I should be your friend, or I should let you…’

_Murder Ruby._

She hid her flinch behind a fresh wave of anger.

‘I don’t need your permission. I don’t need permission from _any_ of you to fight for the faunus. I’d fight with the White Fang and I’d fight without it. You say there’s a price to pay? I’d pay it again and again and again without any hesitation. Because someone _has_ to pay it. If they don’t, then nothing will ever change!’

‘Maybe.’ If there was hurt inside him, he hid it well. ‘But you’ll change first. Whatever injury you think you’ll do humanity, going down a path like this will destroy you long before they hoist a white flag. It’s too much for a sane person to pay.’

‘I’ll pay it,’ Blake said again. ‘I’ll pay it for me, and for my father, and for men like you who hide behind pacificism as if you’re nobler for accepting a beating instead of stopping it.’

Tukson’s eyes hardened, his teeth setting in a grimace. ‘I think you find it far too easy to denigrate beliefs that you don’t understand. Your father would be ashamed.’

‘My father is dead.’ For once, Blake felt no grief at the statement. ‘He’s not ashamed of anything anymore.’

\---------------------

Blake wouldn’t have thought it possible for her mood to worsen, but Tukson had done it effortlessly. Pacing down the streets of Vale, people took one look at her face and scattered. Smart of them. If only she could deal with Ruby and friends that efficiently.

 _Ruby might not be a problem for much longer_. She wondered what it said that such a thought suddenly had great appeal. Enough, at least, that the walk down to the warehouse district didn’t fill her with dread.

The address Roman had sent to her scroll was a battered and dingy place, but then so was the rest of the area. Time passed, industry shifted, and a tendency for the river to flood in the spring meant the warehouse district had fallen out of favour. Technically it was the _old_ warehouse district, with the newer and shinier buildings closer to the docks now thoroughly floodproofed.

But nature abhorred a vacuum, and just because industry had no further use for the old buildings by no means meant they had lost all purpose. A charitably minded member of the Vale Council had suggested converting the buildings into low-cost housing. The not so charitably-minded had quickly voted down that option, but it hardly mattered. People needed roofs over their heads, and here there were roofs to spare.

She pulled her overcoat tighter as she passed down a number of alleys to avoid the police presence on the streets. Given that there was an equal risk of getting knifed for that self-same coat, she was sure to keep her aura up. There weren’t just faunus left homeless and abandoned, but humans as well. A valuable reminder to her and to Tukson, if he was willing to see it. Humanity wouldn’t just destroy the faunus if they had the chance, they’d dispose of their own with equal relish.

Speaking of which…

Neo waved cheerfully at her from the railing of a fire escape above the alley, wrapped up in a poncho (pink and white of course) that covered her outfit from the cold drizzle that had crept in from the sea and was busy smothering the life out of the warm Vale summer.

‘I don’t suppose you could drop me a ladder?’ Blake called up.

Neo pressed a hand to her chest, as if to say _“who, me?”_ If Blake hadn’t already seen the indifferent cruelty the other woman was capable of, she might have believed the act of childish innocence.

Or maybe not. The signs were there, hidden behind the youthful face and impish eyes. Neo might have looked Blake’s age, but she was older. And, Blake was beginning to realise, far more accustomed to violence. Even Roman seemed to have more scruples. Or maybe he just expressed them more?

If her father’s death and humanity’s cruelty had helped shape her into the person she was, and Mountain Glenn had twisted Roman from huntsman to thief, what had Neo endured that made her capable of dicing up teenagers in the back room of a downstairs bar?

Tiring of her game, Neo dropped the ladder for her. That she didn’t bother raising it afterwards either said wonders for Roman’s security or not much at all about the locals’ chances if they followed them in.

If the warehouse had been an eyesore on the outside, the inside took the extra steps needed to reclassify it to crumbling hovel. But it was, despite the rusted catwalk and mildewed walls, fulfilling its original purpose as a warehouse. Crates of dust were stacked head high, covered in tarpaulins to protect it from the damp, but recognisable by the SDC snowflake stencilled on the sides.

Roman was waiting for them in one of the newer, cleaner areas. Like Neo he was wearing a poncho, though his seemed more to protect his coat from the rust than the rain. For once he wasn’t smiling and didn’t try and greet her with a pithy taunt. His hat was nowhere to be seen, his face was devoid of its usual makeup and his hair was combed back into something resembling a normal style. Only the cigar between his fingers remained, but even that was held limply, more out of habit than genuine enjoyment.

Without the theatrical touches, he seemed smaller. Less like the prancing dandy she knew and more like a tired man aged past his years. She could sympathise.

‘Blake.’

‘Roman.’

‘Figured it was time for you to see some of the fruits of your labour.’ Roman gestured with the end of his cigar, sweeping his arm across the indoor vista. ‘A third of it’s yours.’

‘The White Fang’s.’

‘They’re not here to claim it, are they?’ He didn’t wait for her answer before offering a cigarette case. ‘Can I tempt you?’

Her scar was aching from the exertion of the training ring and the oncoming storm and she was almost certain she felt a cold coming on.

Blake shrugged. ‘Why not?’

Neo sniffed distastefully as Roman flicked on his lighter. Blake appreciated the morbid humour of a hardened killer being a health fanatic, but wasn’t that just how the world worked? Making up for corruption in one field by excessive morality in another? It couldn’t be a coincidence that some of the biggest human supporters of faunus rights had turned out to be, well, horrible people.

Sienna had always had a good laugh about it. And at how many faunus rushed to support them after the fact.

_‘I’ve never really trusted any man or woman who says they support faunus rights, then goes home and beats their spouse.’_

Humans and faunus alike were always going on about all the good humans in the world that believed in faunus equality. Despite that, Blake was almost certain that Roman and Neo were the only humans she’d ever met who treated her equally. With the equal contempt they showed the rest of the world, naturally, but it was a nice gesture.

‘Seven tons of dust,’ Roman mused. ‘Everything from a couple of hundred kilos of fire dust to maybe seven or eight kilos of gravity. A third of all of this going to Mistral. Maybe that’ll help free a couple of hundred faunus, huh?’

‘What are you doing?’ Blake noted the defensiveness in his eyes as he straightened up. ‘I thought we were past this?’

‘Past what?’

‘Past you cracking lines about our struggle for your own amusement.’

‘Believe me, I get plenty of laughs about your struggle without needing a cheap target.’

 _There it is_. ‘Well, if you were trying to butter me up, you don’t need to bother. If you need to kill Ruby, kill her. I won’t stop you.’

Roman blinked, then glanced back at Neo. Neo ignored him in favour of chasing a roach off her boot with the tip of her umbrella.

‘That was easier than I thought,’ he said.

‘Well, isn’t it like you said? If Ruby realises the truth and tells Ozpin then that compromises me. That will compromise you. That means no more dust. And as long as I’m hanging around in Vale then I might as well get all the dust I can.’

‘And you’re not going to object on the grounds of her being a teenager?’

Blake thought of the sorrow in Tukson’s voice, the pity for the humans he’d killed just because of their age. ‘Age doesn’t matter. Huntresses fight the White Fang all the time. Ruby’s training to be a huntress. It’s no different to Atlas bombing one of _our_ training camps.’

‘A glimmer of logic from the younger generation. Neo, the world’s in safe hands after all.’ Roman took another pull from his cigar. Blake copied him with the cigarette. It tasted awful and burned the back of her throat, but she kept at it. All the fuss had to be about something. ‘That’s a load off my mind, I must say.’

‘You’ll still need to kill her, you realise?’

There was a flicker of crystals. Blake found herself staring at a dirty urchin girl with filthy blonde hair, staring up at her with teary green eyes.

‘Shouldn’t be a problem,’ Roman said drily. ‘If we can get a crime boss with this little trick, I’m sure a teenager will be no problem.’

‘Subtle.’

‘You don’t survive long in this world by being obvious.’ Roman’s eyes flicked down the line of crates. The irony wasn’t lost on him either, it seemed. ‘Come on, I want to show you something.’

There were other people in the warehouse, Blake noted with some discomfort. Not just the cheap local muscle Roman had hired for the job at the docks, but the occasional man or woman in outfits almost as flashy as Roman’s.

‘Associates of mine,’ Roman answered her unspoken question. ‘We’re a…hmmm, not an organisation as such. More a loosely organised, semi-independent confederation of acquirers of goods by means other than legal.’

‘You mean like a thieves’ gui…’

‘We don’t call it that.’ The sudden ire in Roman’s voice as Neo held a hand to her mouth to mask a silent snicker told Blake she’d stumbled on an old argument. ‘But whatever it is, it’s not going to be around for much longer.’

‘You losing control?’

‘To these people?’ Roman seemed torn between amusement and contempt. ‘No. All the sharper thieves left town years ago or I already had to kill them. Just a change in the air. A shifting in the wind. A lot of people cashing in their retirement options early or just seeking greener pastures.’

‘Why?’

‘Probably because of stuff like this.’ Roman stopped in front of a large, tarpaulin covered shape. ‘Neo?’

Neo obligingly gave the sheet a tug. As it dropped, so did Blake’s jaw.

‘What the hell?’

‘The X-One Paladin,’ Roman stared up at the behemoth with a strange frown. ‘Joint development between the SDC, Scarlatina Foundries and the Atlas military’s science division. Heavy calibre anti-Grimm cannon in both arms, dual missile racks in the shoulders capable of targeting both land and air targets. Reinforced armour that can tank a hit from a Goliath. Can go forty kilometres an hour cross-country, sixty on flat ground. Normally controlled by one pilot and one gunner, but this is a command variant so there’s a third seat.’

It took his entire spiel for Blake to recover her senses. ‘What…where did you get this?’

‘Cinder.’

‘You _asked_ her for this?’

‘Yes, Blake.’ Roman turned back to her. ‘Because I, a career thief, who relies on quick, efficient and preferably quiet heists to fill my coffers would really get myself into debt with a woman I despise just to get my hands on a loud, cumbersome machine designed for fighting Grimm in the wildlands.’

‘There’s no need to be patronising,’ Blake snapped.

‘If you don’t want to be patronised, don’t ask stupid questions,’ Roman snapped right back.

Neo yawned. Strangely, that was enough to calm Roman immediately. He scratched his ear, a sheepish look on his face. ‘I didn’t ask Cinder for this. She had it sent over a few days ago and told me to look after it.’

‘Is she giving it to the White Fang?’ Blake felt a bolt of excitement thrum through her spine. If Sienna could get her hands on something like this it might go a long way to eliminating the overwhelming firepower advantage of Atlas.

‘I wouldn’t get your hopes up,’ Roman said. ‘This thing was shipped in from Mistral. If she’d wanted the Fang to have it…’

It would already be there. Blake could read between the lines. ‘Then she wants to use it in Vale?’

‘Maybe.’ Roman shrugged. ‘Or maybe she’s keeping it here till the heat dies down from wherever they lifted it from.’

‘You’re not curious? Dust. Mechs. Don’t you worry about what she’s going to do with this stuff?’

‘She’s using some of it to buy your help.’

‘To steal more dust,’ Blake countered. ‘So what? Is she trying to depress the market or something?’

‘Jacques Schnee using a rogue huntress to drive up dust prices? I don’t think that Cinder’s style. Too petty.’

‘You’re an expert on her, are you?’

‘Look, you meet a lot of strange and desperate folk in my line of work. I’ve shaken hands with killers, broken bread with every variety of thief, and you’re my first terrorist.’

‘Hey.’

‘Sorry, freedom fighter.’ He flicked his lighter out toward her. Blake glanced down at her cigarette and realised it had gone out. ‘Point is, I can understand why you’re doing this. Liberty, equality, fraternity. Great stuff, really touches me where I live. Same trite shit that the old and bitter have been getting the young and desperate to fight and kill for longer than I’ve been around.’

‘You’re a poet, Roman.’

‘Thank you. That slick kid, the one with the hair. I get him too. Born into the life, trying to make the best of it. And the girl? Green haired one? Well, that look in her eyes when she’s mooning at Cinder isn’t healthy, but I understand that too. The first one’ll kill ya because he’s paid to and he won’t feel bad about it, but he won’t feel good about it either. Second one’ll kill just because Cinder told her to, but she’ll fell a bit bad about it. Just a bit.’

‘You’re saying you don’t understand Cinder?’

‘Oh no, I understand her just fine. But I don’t _get_ her. She’s powerful. Likes exercising her power. Has a little team of lackeys that follow her everywhere. And she’s cruel.’ Roman’s eyes narrowed. ‘She kills for pleasure.’

Blake was unimpressed. ‘And you and Neo?’

‘We’ll kill for money, sure.’ Roman flashed Neo an exasperated smile. ‘And maybe Neo enjoys it a little more than she should.’

Neo gave an innocent flutter of her eyes.

‘But I’ve only met a few people who would kill me as stone dead as she would and have a smile on her face the entire time.’ Roman nodded up at the Paladin. ‘That’s why I wanted to show you this. If you needed any more incentive to avoid taking Cinder lightly, this should be it.’

‘She can steal military grade firepower? Big deal. We used to do that all the time in the Fang.’

‘No. It means she can steal military grade firepower, smuggle it into Vale and _get away with it_. And now that she has it here, I’m pretty damn sure she’s going to use it.’ Roman snapped his fingers and one of the goons ran over to hand him his hat. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me. Neo and I need to go make sure that she doesn’t end up using it on us.’

Fixing his hat and double checking his cane, Roman took a deep breath and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, the doubt was gone. The fear was gone. Any trace of nerves had left him, the smile on his face the same mocking grin she’d come to know and hate.

‘Go fix yourself up with a stiff drink’ Roman advised. ‘Make sure your alibi is water-tight. Practice your tears. There’s probably going to be a fair amount of wailing tonight.’

\------------------------

As Yang had suspected, even the promise of a monstrous freakshake wasn’t enough to keep Ruby occupied for too long. It was a mammoth drink, more like a jug than a cup, and filled with thick, chocolate goodness, a mountain of whipped cream and crowned by a pink lamington.

Predictably, Ruby went through it like a Nevermore through a skydiver.

Equally predictably, Ruby soon lost her taste for ‘annoy big sister on date’.

‘I’m going to grab some comic books,’ she announced, about two minutes after she’d demolished her drink. ‘Meet you at the air taxi?’

‘If I’m not there, don’t wait up.’ Yang winked. Ruby made a disgusted expression, but didn’t bother to shoot off a retort.

Sun watched her go with a faint grin. Yang found herself watching him in turn. He hadn’t changed out of his Atlas uniform, so she’d stayed in her Beacon skirt and blazer to match him. A part of her, a very small, shallow part, wished that he’d changed. Not just because his casual outfit left very little to the imagination but…well, he wore his uniform well. That was partly the problem.

The Beacon uniform was more or less similar to the one she’d worn at Signal. The Atlas uniform was, on the other hand, distinctly military in cut and cloth. The neat grey tunic, cinched at the waist by the broad white belt, fit him well and was clearly well cared for, as was every aspect of his appearance. The back and sides of his hair were cut short and the top neatly combed to the right. His boots, as Neptune had once quipped, were shiny enough that Yang had to make sure she didn’t accidentally stand too close.

‘You stare any longer and I’m going to start charging,’ Sun said, a sly look in his eyes as Yang flushed on reflex. ‘Something on your mind?’

‘Just admiring the uniform.’ Yang dipped her spoon downwards for another bite of her cheesecake.

‘You didn’t strike me as a badge bunny.’

The waitress who’d been bringing Sun another cup of coffee turned bright red as she quickly placed it on the table and fled back toward the kitchen. Yang watched her go with a grin. ‘Smooth.’

‘Sorry,’ Sun said, with a look in his eyes that said the exact opposite. ‘General Ironwood likes to say that we’re always representatives of the Atlas military, so we should always behave ourselves.’

‘And do you?’

‘Whenever I’m in Atlas, sure.’ There was an uncomfortable note in his voice. ‘The Old Man has a lot of enemies. Every time a cadet gets into a punch up or a soldier’s involved in a scandal, you’ll find Hill or Sleet or someone else with an axe to grind acting like it’s entirely his fault. Double that if it’s a faunus cadet.’

‘So what Cardin was saying…’

‘He’s an ass.’ Sun said, a deep scowl setting over his features. ‘But he’s not entirely wrong. Atlas isn’t as bad as Mistral. Some places over there you can flat out murder a faunus and get away with it. Atlas is…different. Faunus can own property, vote in elections, even join the military these days.’

‘I’m sensing there’s a but?’

‘But,’ Sun added, his scowl easing slightly. ‘He was right. If I’m not in uniform in Atlas, it’s like I’m a nonperson. They don’t hassle you, there’s always the risk that you’re working for someone important or that you’re with the military. They just ignore you. Gets real awkward if you miss one of the signs and you’re standing there waiting to be served while they just look anywhere but at you.’

‘That’s why you wear your uniform all the time, then?’ Yang bit her lip. Having to dress up like that just for the bare minimum of respect. ‘That sounds awful.’

Sun caught his nod halfway down. ‘It’s not like that all the time,’ he said, a defensive note creeping in. ‘With more and more faunus joining the military and coming to the academy, the smart ones are starting to realise they can make a fortune by selling to us.’

‘Still doesn’t sound fair,’ Yang said. ‘Can’t General Ironwood change that?’

‘He doesn’t run Atlas. The Council of Ten does. And they’re nervous enough about him holding two seats at once. They usually like to play the Supreme Commander and the Headmaster against each other, divide and rule.’

‘You’re not really selling me on Atlas,’ Yang said frankly. ‘Why would you even go there to begin with?’

‘Got on the wrong boat,’ Sun said with equal frankness. ‘I was heading for Mistral.’

‘But that’s…’

‘Even worse? I know.’ He scratched his head and gave an awkward smile. ‘Well, I know now, at least.’

‘Why not transfer to Vale? Or even go back to Vacuo? Could General Ironwood keep you there because of your scholarship?’

‘Could he? Yes. Would he? I’m not sure. But I don’t want to leave.’

It didn’t make any sense to Yang, something he must have spotted immediately on her face.

‘Atlas is more than just a few rich assholes,’ he said. ‘More than just those stuck in their ways. It’s the city of dreams. Trouble is a lot of people have stopped dreaming. I kind of feel sorry for them, the way they only see Atlas from the top.’

‘Like Weiss?’ It was a shot in the dark, but Sun acknowledged the hit with a nod.

‘Paper patriots, we usually call them. They love Atlas as long as the lien and the prestige is there, but they’ve forgotten that Mantle and Atlas weren’t built by fancy parties and dynasty politics. What carved Mantle out of the ice and raised Atlas into the sky was the vision that it could be done and the will to see it through.’ Sun’s eyes had drifted away, a tiny smile playing across his lips. His tail swept up unconsciously, picking up his coffee and lifting it to his lips.

‘Last year General Ironwood took all the team leaders out to Mount Lycurgus, about sixty klicks away from the city. We spent three days climbing the west face, then gained the summit just before dawn on the fourth day.’ He shook his head. ‘Don’t get me wrong. The desert can be just as beautiful as the tundra in its own way. But coming up on the peak with the sun rising behind Atlas…the way it gleamed off those silver towers…’

‘I get it.’ Yang surprised herself, she hadn’t intended to say anything. Her mouth had moved before her brain did. Well, since she had his attention…‘I feel the same way when I look at Beacon. The first time I saw it, really saw it, was when I was starting this year. I realised that everything I was feeling, my mother must have felt too. And her mother. I was…’

‘Connected.’ Sun finished.

‘To something that’s so much bigger than me I can’t even name it.’ Yang agreed. ‘It’s like…my own story was becoming part of Beacon’s story.’

‘…and becoming so much greater because of it…’

‘…linking me to the past and to the future. If I have my own children someday, maybe they’ll look at Beacon the same way?’

‘Maybe mine will look at Atlas and feel unconditional pride to be a part of it?’

Yang leaned forward. ‘I think your pride _is_ unconditional. It’s just not blind. You see Atlas for what it is, and for what you hope it could be. The people that say they love it but don’t acknowledge its flaws…is the thing they love even real?’

Sun’s lips twitched slightly. ‘I don’t know. I’ve seen a few things without flaws, and they seem pretty real. I…’

He stopped, his eyes widening.

They looked down to find his left hand joined with her right. Sun made to pull back, but Yang held steady. They looked up, silver eyes meeting dark grey. Her thumb ran over his knuckles and he eased his palm against hers. There was a question in his eyes and invitation in her own. He leaned forward across the small table and she turned up her head to greet him as he…

The furious vibration of her scroll inside her jacket disrupted the glorious tattoo of her heart against her ribs, making both of them jerk back into their chairs.

The waitress and the elderly couple at a nearby table gave a disappointed sigh. The redhead, the bluehead and the girl in the blue beret hiding in a far corner slapped hands into faces with two meaty thuds and a slightly tinny one.

‘You…you should probably get that.’ Sun coughed. ‘Could be urgent.’

‘Y-yeah,’ Yang fished the scroll out of her pocket. ‘Could be…’

She froze as she saw the symbol popping up on the screen. ‘…the Vale police department?’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for taking so long to grind out this chapter, had to re-write a few dialogues that just weren't cutting it. Tukson finally a appearance in, as does my attempt to explain how Blake 'Wonderbread' Belladonna manages to be as white as a sheet with a European name whilst her father is literally out of the Jungle Book. Pierre's allusion is the original 'Puss in Boots' fable, with the twist being that Puss decides to be his own master.


	22. 'the man who lost too much'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blake seeks out Tukson for an alibi. Neo lies in wait for Ruby. Taiyang wakes to terrible news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the finale of Arc II. Enjoy.

_‘How could you have said something like that?’ The scream which had been bubbling in Blake’s chest all day finally made itself known._

_Mom looked down at her, the same tearful serenity with which she had greeted the mourners now turned toward her daughter._

_‘Because it needed to be said.’_

_‘What? That you forgive his killers? That you hope everyone present would embrace the opportunity to show forbearance? You had to tell the whole world that?’_

_‘Yes. I showed them our strength…’_

_‘You showed them your belly.’ Blake stormed past her, fists clenched and ears flattened._

_The Chief’s mansion rose in front of her, the palatial residence of Menagerie’s ruling family for six generations now. It was one of the few buildings that was truly their own in style and substance. Much of Menagerie’s population came from the expelled faunus populations of Vale, Mistral and Mantle, and many of the buildings raised in the decades since reflected the diversity of their origins._

_It had been the struggle of Blake’s grandmother and great-grandmother to unite them behind one culture. Menagerie’s culture. To adapt and involve new arrivals, with different languages and different perspectives, in such a way that gave strength to the whole._

_Grampa’s victory at Fort Castle had been their victory. Uniting the faunus through a victory no one could have imagined._

_And yet, there had always been something distinctly old and unique about Blake’s family home. A link, perhaps, to the mighty lineage that stretched back just as far, if not further, than any of the human kingdoms._

_A lineage that Chandra Belladonna had just spat upon._

_‘You may not like my words, Blake,’ Mom said. ‘But they were wiser than Sienna’s.’_

_‘Sienna wants to avenge Dad. Your wisdom is cowardice.’_

_‘Wisdom is **exactly** what is needed here.’ Mother followed her into the main hall, pausing only to remove her shoes at the entrance. Blake couldn’t help but feel foolish at her own booted feet. ‘Sienna’s words are liable to get every young idiot on this island fired for war.’_

_‘Good.’_

_Mother shot her a sharp glance. ‘Do you know what your father did after Fort Castle? When your grandfather was busy celebrating the victory and planning the next march against Mistral City? He buried young men and women, Blake.’_

_‘They died as heroes!’_

_‘Yes. Heroes. Brave, young, foolish heroes. Humans and faunus alike.’ Mother pressed a hand against her forehead, the cracks in her calm seeping through. ‘You know what he saw when he was digging those graves? He saw you.’_

_‘Don’t…’_

_‘Such a tiny thing you were.’ Mother’s smile returned for a moment. ‘Small and quiet and always wanting to be held. All he knew you from was my letters, but he loved you like the bird loves the wind. He fought a war for you, but he knew that if he didn’t end that war then one day it would swallow you too. His life’s work, the White Fang, was to make a world where you didn’t need to fight.’_

_‘And he died for it!’ Blake snapped._

_It was the wrong thing to say. A hard look grew on Mother’s face, an anger deeper and more terrible than anything Blake had ever seen. ‘Yes! He died! Gods, do you think I’m heartless? My husband is dead. Murdered by monsters.’_

_‘One monster. A huntress.’_

_Mother’s lips tightened. Her mourning clothes gave her a weight that Blake had quite registered before. When it came to discipline, Dad had usually administered it. Blake suddenly wondered if there hadn’t been a very good reason for that._

_‘And you think you’ll be able to kill that huntress and avenge your father?’_

_Blake hung her head, common sense overwhelming her desire to nod her head and swear vengeance._

_And yet… ‘Not yet.’_

_‘Not ever,’ Mother said. ‘You will not be returning to Mistral. You will stay here and continue your schooling, as will Ilia.’_

_‘We swore our oaths…’_

_‘You’re twelve years old. The only oath you should be swearing is that you’ll do all your homework before bed.’_

_‘Stop treating me like a child!’_

_‘You **are** a child. And I am your mother.’ There was no room for argument in the words. ‘I am responsible for your safety. You will not leave Menagerie.’_

_‘I think Blake should make up her own mind on the matter.’ A new voice spoke from behind Mom. She turned to find Sienna in the doorway. Still in her funeral clothes, her eyes were tinged red from the tears she had shed. Unlike Mom, there was nothing serene on her face._

_‘Sienna…’ Mom’s voice had turned cold. ‘I think you should leave.’_

_‘You’d like that, wouldn’t you?’ Sienna stepped her, the differences in their height and musculature never more obvious. ‘You’d like it if everyone who still had their spine left.’_

_‘I’d rather you left before you made things worse.’_

_‘Then I’ll grant your wish.’ Sienna flung the challenge back in her face. ‘I’ll leave. And I’ll take any faunus with me that prefers violent freedom to peaceful submission.’_

_‘You’d betray my husband’s legacy that easily? He all but raised you.’_

_‘And I will forever be grateful to him. He was a great man. Perhaps the noblest man I’ve ever known.’ The words were said with such bitterness Blake could have mistaken them for an insult. ‘But in the end he was a noble fool who got himself killed.’_

_For a moment, Blake thought Mom might strike her there and then. Drawing herself up, the lady of Menagerie folded her hands in front of her, once again regal and dignified._

_‘You are no longer welcome on Menagerie, Sienna. Leave, or I will have the guards remove you.’_

_‘You have no authority over me. Your husband was chief. You…’_

_‘I am my daughter’s regent.’ There was the faintest tremble in her voice. ‘And I am ordering you to leave.’_

_Sienna stared back, a faint look of hurt creeping over her features for a brief moment. And a moment later it was gone._

_‘I already said I was leaving.’ She looked back at Blake. ‘Along with anyone who wants to come.’_

_Mom tried to intercept Blake as she moved to Sienna’s side, but the taller woman blocked her._

_‘Blake! Don’t!’ Mom reached out to her, but Sienna caught the arm. ‘Let go of me! Blake!’_

_‘We have to fight.’ Blake didn’t lift her head. ‘If you won’t, then I will.’_

_Mom stopped struggling against Sienna’s grip. ‘There is more than one way to fight! More than one set of weapons! Your father believed that diplomacy…’_

_‘We’ve tried diplomacy.’ Sienna stepped back and turned away from her; shoulders set. ‘I think it’s time we see how effective a little violence is.’_

_‘Sienna! If you go down this road, you won’t be a freedom fighter. You’ll be maker of corpses. My daughter…’_

_‘Has made her choice.’ Sienna rested a hand on Blake’s shoulder. ‘Haven’t you?’_

_Blake looked up at Sienna, then back to Mom. Her face had lost all its serenity. All its sternness. All that was left was horror._

_‘I’ve made my choice.’_

\----------------------------

‘I’ve made my choice.’

Blake had whispered the words to herself every minute on the minute for almost an hour. It hadn’t been made today, or yesterday or even weeks ago. Five years. Five long years. That was when she’d promised to do what was necessary.

Trying to pretend that civilised methods worked would only bring all of them to an uncivilised end. Dad’s death had proven that. All Sienna had done was say that whatever tactics humanity used on them would be returned in kind. Raiding. Burning.

Murdering the innocent?

_Mom stretched out her hand. ‘The killing’s got to stop, Blake. Sooner or later, it has to stop.’_

Blake shook her head to clear it. Her mother kneeling the mud, empty hand stretching out to nothing as the rain fell harder. Sienna taking her and Ilia and all the others down to the docks and embarking for Mistral. The brutal months in the training camp, the first feeling of blood on her knuckles as they defended a farm from a Mistral raiding party.

Mom had been wrong. They’d bested the militia without killing any of them. Sent them scurrying back to their side of the border in shame. There’d been many nights like those. Vicious fights before the dawn, triumphant meals in the morning sun as she and Ilia compared notes.

Mom had been wrong. Fighting back didn’t need to involve killing. Blake wasn’t a murderer.

_‘Just an accessory today, then?’_

‘You’re back, then?’ Tukson’s voice brought her back out of her mind.

‘I didn’t want to be.’ That much was truth. She needed an alibi, and if Tukson was as upstanding a local citizen as he seemed then he was as safe as any. ‘I just wanted to talk.’

‘Talk, then.’

‘Where’s the girl?’

‘Sally? Headed home.’ Tukson reached behind the counter of the shop and Blake stiffened on instinct. She didn’t relax till he came out with a dusting brush, not a weapon. ‘She’s back at school tomorrow, I want her well rested.’

‘Is she yours?’ Blake hadn’t seen any faunus traits, but she couldn’t see any obvious ones on Tukson either.

‘No, not mine.’ Tukson smiled fondly at nothing. ‘I sometimes wish she was. And no, I’m not with her mother, either. Never really found the time for marrying.’

‘Why not?’

‘If you’re going to marry someone, you shouldn’t ask them to share you with something else. The cause comes first for me.’

Blake raised an eyebrow. ‘From what you were saying, it doesn’t sound like you believe in the cause anymore.’

‘The cause of the faunus won’t end until we have equality and peace.’ Tukson began to dust down the bookshelves, carefully tending to each row and column in its turn. ‘That’s the cause I serve. Not Sienna’s.’

‘We won’t have either unless Sienna prevails.’

‘Hmm, that’s a common conceit amongst your generation.’ He looked back from his dusting, a frown spreading over his face. ‘You think that yours are the only plans with any chance of succeeding.’

‘Maybe it’s because we see all the plans of the old failing to bear fruit,’ Blake retorted. ‘Maybe we want to fight for what we deserve now, rather than wait for it?’

‘Maybe. You might be right. You might be wrong as well. Are you prepared to concede that much?’

‘Right or wrong, I believe in Sienna.’ Blake knew what people said about her father, likely the same thing Tukson would say. That he was strong for enduring. She’d stopped believing it long ago. ‘She has the strength to get us through this. I have no doubts about our cause. No hesitation in what must be done.’

Tukson placed his duster down on the shelf, turning his attention fully to her now. The frown had gone, replaced with a carefully schooled expression. ‘Now that was the first full lie you’ve told me.’

‘You don’t know what goes on in my head.’

‘I know that twenty five years ago I was in your shoes and I had enough doubts to sink a tea clipper.’ He folded his arms across his chest. Unlike before, he hadn’t sunk back into his memories. ‘Only the madman or the zealot can do what we do without doubt. I buried my doubts in blood. Will you?’

‘Why do you mourn so much for them?’ Blake had heard the stories, read the history, knew the battles back to front. ‘Slavers. Corrupt nobles. The people you helped kill in the war weren’t innocent victims. They were monsters.’

‘I don’t disagree. Trouble is, it wasn’t always monsters we killed.’ Tukson’s gaze didn’t flinch this time. ‘I don’t shed a single tear for some of the bastards I put in the ground. But I’d bring all of them back if I could bring back the innocent I buried with them.’

‘Then you’d sentence more people to suffer.’ It was a half-hearted shot, and Tukson shrugged it off.

‘I’m just sick of seeing their faces when I try to sleep.’ His head lowered. ‘Twenty years since my last good rest.’

‘Why? Fear?’

‘I don’t fear anything for myself. What I fear is any person who puts an ideal ahead of innocent life.’

Blake had an easy answer for that one. Sienna had used it against many who held Tukson’s views. Held Dad’s views. ‘Then we’ve already lost. If we’re so hung up on not hurting people when we fight back, then we might as well never even march or protest. Someone might trip and hurt their ankle, right?’

‘And I reject that logic now as I rejected it then. I will do whatever I can to help the poor and oppressed, but I will not embrace tactics that treat innocent lives as acceptable casualties and involve sending angry children to die for the failures of their parents.’

‘Yet you still serve the White Fang?’

‘Because I hope that someday there will be someone worthy of leading it again.’ Tukson turned away, his hand reaching for the duster again. ‘I think it’s time for you to leave. I can only stomach so much of Sienna’s propaganda in one day.’

Blake slunk toward the floor, unable to contain the heated feeling in her chest at his abrupt dismissal. She’d have to find somewhere else for her alibi. She’d have to…

‘All children bury their parents.’

She glanced back over her shoulder. ‘What?’

‘Sooner or later, all children bury their parents,’ Tukson repeated. ‘You have every right to be angry about what has happened. But just because the time was too short, doesn’t mean it was something so terrible it can’t be forgiven or just lived with. It’s parents burying their children that’s unnatural. Your mother…’

Blake pushed back out the door and onto the street. His words had set something off, but not about Mom. Some Belladonna loyalists had tried to cajole her with similar arguments, tried to tempt her to return to Menagerie. Some had even tried to remove her from Sienna’s training forcefully.

As far as Blake was concerned she didn’t want her mother to see her again, living or dead. But there was someone who Ruby would want to see and someone who wanted to see her. If Taiyang Xiao Long was very lucky, he might see them lowering the body of his daughter into a grave.

‘I’ve made my choice,’ Blake whispered to herself.

Her scroll began to buzz.

\---------------------------------

Ruby sighed as the call rang out again. ‘Well, it was a long shot.’

She took a few moments to type out a message then slid her scroll back into her pocket. The wind blew a fresh wave of drizzle into her face, a chill seeping through her skin as specks of rain trickled past the protection of her cloak and hood.

Zwei whined beside her, shaking himself to dry and rid some of the moisture from his fur. Ruby felt a flash of guilt for taking Zwei from his comfy snooze in the café’s foyer to walk out in the rain for a fool’s errand.

‘Who shuts at five on a Monday?’ Ruby grumbled to herself, turning away from the shuttered bookshop. She’d walked four blocks in the rain for nothing. Maybe if she put on some sniffles, Yang would buy her a mocha back at the tea rooms?

There was a flicker of movement to her right and Zwei began to bark. Ruby twitched toward it, reaching back to unlimber _Crescent Rose_ …which wasn’t there, of course. But neither was there a threat. Ruby shook her head, slightly cross with herself for being so easily spooked. That was the snag in huntress training. Reflexes honed to such a fine point by constant training and exposure to Grimm didn’t always recognise the difference between a Beowolf or a speeding car.

Or, in this case, a tiny girl huddled under the eave of a building as two older kids pushed and jeered at her.

Ruby suddenly forgot all about the cold and damp, a growl leaping up her throat at the scene before her eyes. ‘Hey! Cut that out!’

The older kids, a boy and a girl, glanced back at her. One of them shrugged and threw another kick at the girl. Ruby saw red.

In a flash of rose petals she had crossed the street and collared both of them. Crescent Rose wasn’t necessary for this kind of work. Zwei, after checking both ways for traffic, chased after her, barking and scampering around her legs.

‘Hey! Let me go!’ The boy squawked.

‘You should be ashamed of yourself.’ Ruby did her best to mimic Professor Goodwitch’s stern voice. ‘Picking on a little girl like that. Get out of here.’

Both kids sprinted off as soon as she released them, cursing her fluently as soon as they were at a safe distance. Ruby briefly considered chasing them down to get their details for the police. A quiet sniffle behind her purged the thought from her mind.

‘Oh you poor thing.’ Ruby crouched in front of her, brushing some of the mud from the little girl’s forehead. ‘Did they hurt you?’

Big green eyes still brimming with tears, the girl shook her head. Ruby could feel her heart melting inside her ribcage as the urchin buried her head into her knees. From the wretched rags she was clad in, her circumstances were fairly obvious. Bad enough that she didn’t have proper clothing or shelter in weather like this, but to get bullied by the bigger children as well…?

‘Are you hungry?’ Ruby said. ‘How about we get you some food?’

The girl looked up quickly, a guarded look on her face. Ruby wondered what a girl had to go through to be suspicious even of food. Zwei growled and Ruby shot him a sharp look. The corgi was staring at the girl with his hackled raised and teeth bared. Ruby rolled her eyes at the unnecessary jealousy.

‘There’s no trick,’ she said, both to the girl and Zwei. ‘Just food. Would you like that?’

A slow nod. Ruby tried a smile, one the girl slowly mirrored. ‘You don’t talk much, do you?’

The girl shrugged. Maybe she didn’t trust Ruby enough to say anything? Reaching up, Ruby unclasped her hood. At the very least she could help keep this poor girl dry for a while. She leaned in closer to swing the cloak around her shoulders. Zwei began to bark madly yet again, struggling to worm his way between them.

‘Zwei, that’s enough!’ Ruby put a hand on his collar to tug him back.

She didn’t see the flash of steel. But she felt its sting as the tip of the blade pierced the skin above her heart.

\-----------------------

‘No!’ Tai jerked awake, his hand flailing at empty air. But there was no assailant. No knife in the dark. It wasn’t a dark alley in Vacuo and he wasn’t being attacked by bandits. Not for twenty years.

He brushed the sleep from his eyes, feeling not at all rested from his nap. Normally Zwei would wake him long before it got that bad. Ruby needed Zwei more. It didn’t mean Tai couldn’t miss him a little.

Still, now that he was awake he should probably be productive. Groaning a little, Tai picked himself out of his armchair and made his way into the kitchen. He didn’t feel particularly hungry, so he left the steak alone and instead fished some dried prosciutto and olives out for a light dinner.

It had been nice having Ruby back, even so briefly. It was a little easier to her go this time. And a little harder. She’d had her first true baptism of fire now. She’d begun the transition. Child to adult. Even he hadn’t had to deal with such pressures at her age. Raven had. And Qrow. Maybe that was…

He cut off that line of thought. Dealing with shock and trauma didn’t condemn anyone to become what Raven had. She’d dug her own grave and made her bed there. Ruby was making her own path as well. One that would steer her well clear of the rocks that had claimed his second wife.

Reaching back to the fridge, Tai retrieved a beer. Uncapping it, he took a light swig. It was one of his homebrews, a light and sweet mix that Summer had adored and Raven had sworn was ‘fucking close to water’.

He wasn’t sure why his first reaction to that memory was a smile.

From the day he’d first set hammer to nail to build this place, Raven had been there. Rarely helping. Often getting in the way. Constantly drinking his beer. He couldn’t have imagined it without her.

Raven had been his friend long before she’d been his lover. But she just as easily could have been his first. Sometimes he wondered if things would have been better if she had been. Maybe they would never have lost Summer. Maybe…

Tai gave a sigh, tapping the bottle against the side of his head. The last thing he needed was to go spiralling down that hole again. Not after Qrow and Oz had helped him drag himself out of it the last time. Raven had made her choice, and that choice meant abandoning her daughter by blood and the daughter she could have chosen.

It was her loss. And he would…

The buzzing of his home telephone cut off that line of thinking. He frowned. He hadn’t been expecting a call. Who would be…? A glance at the caller ID revealed Yang’s face. Tai chuckled. She was the oldest, but there was no questioning which of them was the bigger daddy’s girl.

‘How’s my little silver dragon?’ Tai made an overblown kissing noise into the phone. ‘Taking good care of your sister, I hope?’

There was silence. Tai waited for a few moments. ‘Yang?’

‘Dad, I…’ Yang’s voice cracked, an audible sob coming across the line. ‘Daddy, something’s happened...I…I’m so sorry.’

Ice gripped his heart. ‘Yang…what is it, baby? What’s wrong?’

She told him. The hand piece fell from his boneless fingers, his eyes brimming with tears as he tried to process the overwhelming horror of it.

‘It’s not true,’ he whispered. ‘It can’t be true…’

His eyes travelled to a family photo on the wall, where he stood with all of the joys that life had given him. ‘No…please…not her…’

\--------------------------------

Ruby stared down at the blade sticking through the top of her corset.

 _I’ve been stabbed_ , she thought, then wondered why the hell that had been her first thought. Or why she’d had a thought at all. A knife through the heart tended to be fatal sooner rather than later.

But the blade hadn’t gone through her heart. She could feel the tip penetrating her skin, felt it scraping against her ribs. That was as far as it had gotten before it stopped.

The urchin holding the knife had been stopped mid-lunge, a larger hand wrapped around her smaller wrist and another restraining her other shoulder from lunging forward to finish the job. The owner of said hands grunted at the effort, forcing the small girl back a step.

Ruby took a step back, her aura snapping into place and stemming the bleeding before it could begin. ‘Bella!’

‘You need to be careful about who you show charity to,’ Bella Ebony said flatly. She continued to hold the small girl at arm’s length. ‘Some people just want to get close enough for a knife.’

Zwei howled angrily before sinking his teeth into the small girl’s ankle. The girl gasped, but did not release her hold of the knife.

‘I…I was just taking her for food…’ Ruby pressed a hand to her wound. Such a tiny thing. But an inch or two deeper… ‘How did you…?’

‘I read that message you left.’ Bella twisted the girl’s hand till she was forced to release the blade. Zwei immediately released his prey and grapped the handle in his teeth. ‘I thought I’d come join you after all.’

The girl kicked Bella’s shin. The older girl ignored it, now positioning herself in between the girl and Ruby. ‘You need to watch out for some of the orphans around here. They might look harmless, but they’ll knife you for any reason you can think.’

With the girl disarmed and Zwei in possession of the blade, Bella finally released her. The girl immediately turned to flee. Bella delivered what, in Ruby’s mind, was a very unnecessary kick to her backside as she went.

‘Been waiting a while for that…’ Bella murmured as she stared after the fleeing child. She turned back to Ruby, the hard shell of her face fracturing for a second. She looked worried, panicked even. ‘Are you alright?’

‘I’m…I’m fine.’ Ruby checked the wound again. It was a tiny blemish in the skin now, her aura accelerating healing that might have taken a few days on its own. ‘Bella, if you hadn’t…’

‘Don’t worry about it.’ Bella’s face was devoid of emotion again, but Ruby couldn’t forget the naked fear of a few moments earlier. ‘I’m just glad you’re alright.’

‘I… _I…_ ’ Ruby couldn’t think of anything else to do but throw her arms around her. Bella started, trying to pull away, but Ruby held her close. ‘ _Thank you_. Thank you, thank you, thank you…’

‘Okay, I get it.’ Bella wiggled free. The harshness on her face had diminished somewhat, exasperation taking its place. ‘What are you doing now?’

‘Uh…going to the police, I guess?’

‘Forget about it.’ Bella said immediately. ‘Cops have to chase real criminals every day. They’re not going to bother searching for a child mugging people.’

‘But she tried to kill me,’ Ruby said. She nervously tested the skin near the wound. ‘Shouldn’t we…?’

‘Did you die?’

‘…no.’

‘Well then, might as well move on.’ Bella walked past her with a shrug. ‘Come on, let’s get some hot chocolate. You like that, right?’

‘Um…I prefer mochas?’

‘Whatever.’

Ruby stared at Zwei. He tilted his head quizzically. ‘Um, Bella?’

‘What?’ The older girl didn’t stop, forcing Ruby to jog to catch up.

‘Uh, just…I thought you didn’t want to hang out.’

‘And now I do, obviously.’ Bella glanced down at her scroll which was now buzzing furiously. She didn’t answer it, tucking it back inside her jacket. ‘Hey, where’s Yang? We should go hang out with Yang. And Pyrrha. Weiss as well. As many people as possible, really.’

Ruby wondered if the knife had been laced with some kind of hallucinogenic. ‘Bella, are you feeling alright?’

‘Just fine,’ Bella said. Her fists were clenched and her jaw was locked, and there was something in her eyes that seemed strangely familiar and made Ruby’s gut twist. ‘I just. Want. To hang out.’

‘Yes, but…’ Ruby gasped as they rounded the corner.

Yang was on her knees, sobbing into her hands as Sun awkwardly patted her on the shoulder. In front of them, police tape had been run up around the area and a number of officers looked on sadly.

Zwei howled mournfully as Ruby gasped.

The remains of a bright red sedan smouldered in the sprinkling summer rain, crushed to pieces by a nearby truck.

‘She was legally parked,’ Yang wept. ‘She was out of the way, she was just a baby…why? Why?’

‘Zippy…?’ Ruby whispered. ‘No…’

Bella and Sun watched on as the sisters embraced each other, tears falling into each other’s hoods and hair as they grieved for the passing of the youngest member of the Xiao-Long household.

‘Goodbye, Zippy.’ Ruby choked out. ‘You were really…the best girl.’

Bella looked at Sun. ‘Was there a pet in the car?’

‘No,’ Sun said. He had the look of a man who’d had his ardour suddenly and unexpectedly cooled by new revelations. ‘It’s the car. It’s just the car.’

\--------------------------------

Blake had never believed in putting off anything difficult. Whether it was cleaning up her toys, finishing her spinach or conducting training drills until her legs ached, it was better to get it over with sooner rather than later.

That was why, once Ruby was safely surrounded by Yang, Sun and (strangely) all the other members of Team Snowcap, Blake had made her excuses. Ruby had been too busy grieving the loss of her family’s automobile to say anything to her. Blake had simply informed Yang that Ruby had been the victim of an attempted mugging and left it at that.

No point in waiting till later for what she had to do.

Blake knew she should have been feeling apprehension. Dread, even. Everything could go her way in the next few minutes and there would still be consequences to pay. But she didn’t. She just felt lighter than she had in months.

She skipped down the stairs, danced past the startled guard, waltzed into the hideout and headed straight for the bar.

‘I’m not a murderer,’ she announced, reaching for the white rum.

Roman, slouched in an armchair with the remnants of three cigars beside him, snapped his head up as he registered her presence. ‘Blake…’

‘I’m not a murderer,’ Blake repeated. ‘Mojito? Wrong weather, I know, but…’

Roman moved like a streak of well-greased red lightning. Despite her bravado, Blake flinched. She waited to be hit in the face with a cane. Roman, however, hadn’t gone for his weapon. Instead, he snatched a white and pink bundle of flailing arms and legs out of the air, wrestling Neo back under control as the short woman snarled silently.

‘Neo is quite pissed with you.’ Roman gave a grunt as a stray fist caught his nose. ‘I’m feeling much the same, but I figured I’d give you a chance to explain first before we discussed any drastic options.’

‘Maybe you should both have a drink? Ease your worries a little?’ Confident that Roman had a good grasp of Neo, Blake continued to fix three glasses.

‘I don’t like having my own tactics used against me, Blake.’

‘Well, you shouldn’t have shown me how effective they are.’ Blake knew she was tapdancing on the thinnest of ice, but she couldn’t help herself. A dam inside of her had broken. She felt so lightheaded she wondered if she’d float away.

‘Neo says you stopped her from killing Ruby. And that you hurt her wrist and kicked her in the ass.’

‘She also got bitten on the ankle by a corgi.’ Blake began measuring shots of rum into the mixing glass.

Despite the fury in his eyes, Roman’s lips twitched furiously. ‘That’s not the point. The point is that you stopped her from killing Ruby. Why?’

‘I’m not like you.’ Blake said. ‘I’m not a murderer.’

‘She’s going to put you in danger. Put all of us in danger.’

‘I’m not a murderer,’ Blake repeated yet again. ‘Maybe I’ve caused deaths. I don’t know. Death happens everyday. Maybe I have killed and don’t know it. I can’t undo that. I don’t know if I would even if I could. I’ve fought against some bad people.’

‘And you think innocent people have never gotten caught up in the crossfire?’ A sneer flickered across his lips. ‘I thought you were smarter than that.’

Blake shrugged. She knew every gesture of indifference was irritating him and incensing Neo. But she couldn’t afford to think seriously about that for the moment. ‘The fact remains, Ruby _is_ innocent. She’s an innocent person who wants to do good in this world. And you aren’t. If you were both lying in front of a fast train, I’d save her every single time.’

‘Well, bravo you!’ Roman released Neo, but only so he could storm toward Blake with his face twisted in rage. ‘And so you get to doom us all but at least your conscience is clear. What a hero of the revolution you are.’

‘Yeah, I’m a revolutionary,’ Blake said, forcing her voice to remain level and agreeable. ‘And you’re a thief. You fight for profit and I fight for an ideal. And that ideal doesn’t include sawing up a teenager on a plastic sheet.’

She finished mixing the last drink and offered it to him. ‘Mojito?’

Roman ignored the drink. A vein pulsed down the centre of his face, but his voice had regained its former calm when he said: ‘And why shouldn’t I just kill the brat the very next time she walks into town?’

‘Well, I could say that I’ll always be there to stop you. And I will.’ Blake ignored the derisive curl of his lip. ‘But here’s the thing. If Ruby dies. If she gets sick. If she so much as skins her knee while she’s playing with her dog, I’ll tell.’

‘Tell?’ Roman’s anger was mixed with a quizzical lift of his eyebrow. ‘Tell who?’

‘I’ll tell Raven Branwen that the people who murdered her daughter were Roman Torchwick and Neo Politan.’

For a single moment, Blake Belladonna achieved what no man or woman had for roughly twenty years. She shut Roman Torchwick up.

Behind him, Neo had cringed at the mention of the name, her hands tightening on her umbrella and her eyes shifting around the room. From her reaction, it was almost like she expected the woman in question to appear at the mention of her name.

‘Big Red…is _her_ daughter?’ Roman finally regained his voice, any rage long fled. ‘How…how do you know?’

‘Nearly every professor announced it on the first day of term. She didn’t really bother keeping it a secret after that.’ Although there had been some, even from Mistral itself, who hadn’t recognised the name. Those who had the luxury of not experiencing the Branwen tribe’s predations in the wildlands.

‘Tell me, Roman. If you think Cinder will kill you to stop you exposing her, what do you think the most vicious bandit chief in Mistral will do the two people who murdered her child?’ Blake tapped a thoughtful finger to her lips. ‘The White Fang have had their run ins with the Branwens. We’ve lost good people to them. They say there’s a faunus swordsman in their ranks who kills slow and enjoys every second of it. I’ve heard…’

‘I know the stories. And I’ve…encountered the woman before.’ Roman glanced back at Neo, who still looked on the verge of a panic attack. ‘I think I’ll have that drink now.’

He practically downed the entire cocktail in a single swig. Neo had seemingly forgotten all about the indignities she’d suffered, instead sipping slowly at her drink and shaking her head. The rage that had animated them before had faded, leaving both of them twitching from the lack of stimulus and leaning heavily on each other. Blake might have found it endearing if she hadn’t been keeping her own twitches under control.

‘So,’ Roman had poured himself another glass of straight rum, ‘what do we do about Cinder…she knows that the girl could expose you. She might just decide to clean house on a whim.’

‘If you’re so scared of Cinder, maybe it’s her you should be killing,’ Blake’s lip curled.

‘Hah. Funny joke.’

‘I’m serious. Kill her. Give the others the option of working with you. If they won’t…’ Blake left the rest unsaid. ‘Or is killing teenagers much more your speed?’

‘Careful, Kitty-Cat…’

‘Maybe I was wrong? Maybe talk and bluster was all the legend of Roman Torchwick ever was?’ Blake slammed down the rest of her drink and spun the glass back onto the bar. ‘How you deal with Cinder is your problem. How I deal with Ruby is mine. Sorry about the kick, Neo. It was uncalled for.’

Blake left them both there, unconcerned with whatever decision they reached. She made her way out of the hideout, taking a deep breath and savouring the crisp, salty note of the sea breeze. The sky was clearing over Vale and Beacon’s lights promised a warm meal and a soft bed.

\------------------------------------

No one mentioned the attempted mugging when Blake got back to the dorm. But Nora and Ren both smiled at her. And Yang, once she’d finished mourning her family car, had offered to let Blake use the shower first.

Nothing had changed. She was still behind enemy lines. She was still separated from her friends and comrades. She was still at risk of discovery and imprisonment.

But she wasn’t a murderer of children. She wasn’t a maker of corpses.

Her sleep was deep and dreamless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And thus wraps up our second arc. Be honest, did I have you going there for a second?
> 
> Had a lot of fun with this arc. Resolved some conflicts, left others to fester, planted seeds for new ones. Given how Arc I concluded, Arc II was unavoidably Blake heavy, but I had a great time exploring some of the twists, turns and downright hypocrisies of her character when placed in a situation like this. The next arc will focus a lot more on Yang and Ruby (imagine that) at this stage, whilst finally giving Jaune and Pyrrha some long overdue POV sections. Ironwood and the Ace Ops will make their reappearance early, and we may finally even meet Sienna properly. Adam and Vernal won't have too much to do next arc, but rest assured they'll get their moments later on.
> 
> Catch you with the first chapter of Arc III next weekend.


	23. 'the man who froze'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marrow undergoes a baptism of fire during his first mission with the Ace Ops. In Mistral, Vernal confronts Adam on a cliff above a river.

The jungle was never really a quiet place. Predators hunted. Prey scampered. Insects hummed. And then there was the constant, never-ending drip of the rain. Soaking everything. Getting into everything. Making seemingly simple equipment malfunction because whatever stress tests it had been put under during the acquisitions process hadn’t quite accounted for the constant, never-ending damp that was the jungle.

But that noise _did_ provide something useful. A backdrop against which a quiet sigh would go completely unheard as Marrow Amin sank up to his chest in a hereforeto undiscovered mudhole.

He couldn’t quite suppress the tiny whine in his throat as thick, muddy water invaded every part of his body and utterly drenched the fur on his tail. A large hand gripped the back of his combat vest, the muscular arm attached to the hand lifting him free with a slight squelch.

‘Careful, rookie,’ Elm Ederne spoke in a low murmur, avoiding the hissing sound that a whisper would have made. ‘These creeks can swallow raw recruits whole if they’re not careful.’

‘If they don’t get eaten alive first,’ Harriet moaned. ‘I thought these wrist bands were meant to repel mosquitos?’

Off to Marrow’s right, Tortuga grinned, his teeth shining unnaturally bright compared to the camouflage paint distorting the lines of his face. ‘Maybe they think your blood’s a delicacy, Hare?’

Harriet didn’t respond, mainly because Clover was glaring at her with a finger pressed to his lips. Swallowing whatever retort she’d been about to spit back, Harriet turned her attention back to the path in front of her.

Privately, Marrow agreed with her about the mosquitos. And the leeches. And damn near everything that was nibbling, snacking or outright feasting on him in the jungle. He’d never been more miserable in his life.

Other than Harriet, however, the awful conditions didn’t seem to bother the Ace Operatives or the supporting commando team. Tortuga had brushed his hand against a gympie leaf, something that should have left him screaming in agony, and simply shrugged it off and moved on with the patrol.

Flicking up the binocular night vision goggles attached to his helmet, Marrow wiped a mixture of sweat, rain and mud away from his face. They’d been going for hours now, ever since the air infiltration to a clearing barely ten kilometres away just before dark. Movement had been painfully slow, Vine methodically cutting a path through the jungle with a set of ordinary garden secateurs for the rest of the assault team to follow until they got to the creekline. Movement had been faster after that, but far less comfortable.

On Tortuga’s advice, Marrow had liberally applied anti-chafe cream to his thighs and everywhere else his uniform or equipment might rub when it got wet. He hadn’t been liberal enough, if the ache on his hips was anything to go by.

He almost jumped out of his skin as a hand rested on his shoulder, finger momentarily straying to his rifle’s safety catch. A deep bass rumble let him know it was Flax a second later.

‘We’re coming up on the compound. Keep your night vision on.’

Marrow nodded. Like many faunus, he had good night vision naturally, but the simple fact was that technology had caught up with nature in that regard. The twin goggles he lowered back into place cast the whole world in monochrome, allowing him to see almost perfectly out to about twenty metres. Beyond that, there simply wasn’t enough ambient light for the goggles to amplify.

The sound of rushing water began to rise as the creek widened and the current increased. The moonlight increased as the jungle canopy thinned, to the point where Marrow could now make out a small clearing on the edge of the creek, complete with a jetty and two boats. A fenced off compound sat in the clearing, four guard towers dominating each corner.

Marrow licked his lips as his fingers trembled on the grip of his rifle. It hadn’t quite sunk in despite the briefings and the rehearsals. But now that he saw the towers, the mounted machine guns, the night watch patrolling the perimeter…

There were real enemies down there now who would really kill him if they got the chance. If he was hit, if his aura broke, then it wouldn’t just be a ribbing from his teammates and a stern lecture from his combat instructor. He could be shot. He could be wounded. He could be…

Clover’s hand signal shook him out of his thoughts. As the overall commander of the mission, Flax’s team obeyed Clover’s orders without question. Tortuga, Harriet and Vine slid deeper into the creek, practically submerging themselves as they silently swam toward the jetty. Nico Wren, the bird faunus from Flax’s team, quickly unlimbered the long-barrelled rifle strapped across his back and found a comfortable firing position. Lassie Rader, the dog faunus, slid in beside him and pulled out a spotting scope.

The rest of the assault force, Clover, Elm, Flax and Marrow himself, continued to worm their way through the scrub. Their target was well defended and well located. But that kind of security bred complacency. No target was out of reach given enough planning and resources.

If they’d wanted to, they could have struck now. It had been hotly debated in the briefing room, that much Marrow still remembered with a wince. Harriet and Tortuga had favoured striking under cover of darkness, ‘snapping necks and cashing cheques’ as Harriet had put it. Vine had proposed sneaking in without any shots fired and abducting the target from their bed. Given the man’s unnatural stillness, Marrow didn’t doubt he could do it.

But General Ironwood had overridden all of them. He wanted it done by the book. And by the book meant reading out the arrest warrant.

Marrow had nodded enthusiastically at the General’s adherence to protocol. It was on them, as huntsmen of Atlas and sworn soldiers, to uphold the standards of international law and apply it everywhere, not just when it was easy.

As an ant sunk its teeth into his wrist and something slithered under his leg, Marrow wished they’d just gone with Elm’s solution of bombing the compound into a crater.

His earpiece buzzed faintly.

‘Set,’ Vine said.

‘Set,’ Nico said.

‘Alright.’ Clover narrowed his eyes. ‘Now for the hardest part.’

\-----------------------

‘Hello!’

The compound guards peered through the pre-dawn mist with confusion, rifles raised to their shoulders as a figure appeared.

‘Who goes there?’ One shouted, training his sights on the approaching man.

‘My name’s Clover Ebi. I’m an officer of the Atlas military.’

The guards blinked, then glanced at each other. The man didn’t look like any kind of officer of any kind of military with his beard and long hair. The green uniform did have a vaguely military look to it, but the sleeves had been ripped off and the buttons were undone to halfway down his thick chest.

‘Bullshit.’ There were a series of clicks as safeties were set to fire. ‘Who are you?’

Marrow made to cover Clover’s retreat, but Elm’s arm pressed Fetch’s barrel down before he could raise it. She shook her head softly.

‘Wait!’ A new voice called. Stepping out of the main building in the compound, a painfully thin man with a pronounced limp approached the guards. ‘I recognise him. That _is_ Clover Ebi. Winner of two Vytal Festivals and the sixth commander of the Atlesian Ace Operatives. Have you come to join me, Captain?’

‘Hardly, sir.’ Clover’s voice had lost its jovial edge. ‘I’m here to arrest you.’

Ethan Iris, formerly Colonel Iris of the Atlesian military and currently the commander of the Hidden Valley Brigade, stared down at Clover with not-so veiled contempt. ‘Are you now? Ironwood must be a bigger sellout than I thought, sending you to arrest one of his old comrades.’

‘It’s because you’re an old comrade that he sent me, sir.’

‘His version of respect?’

‘In a way. You were an excellent huntsman in your day.’

‘Not anymore, thanks to the White Fang.’ Colonel Iris tapped his left knee. ‘But I like to think the soldiers I’ve trained are getting there.’

Clover reached into his pocket and drew out his scroll. ‘I have a warrant for your arrest, sir. If you come quietly, there’s no need for me to arrest anyone else.’

‘I’m not a citizen of Atlas anymore, son. That warrant…’

‘Is countersigned by the Mistral Assembly and valid in all four kingdoms. It’s over, sir. There’s nowhere you can go that a huntsman won’t slap cuffs on you. Come peacefully. There’s no need for anyone to be harmed.’

‘I’m not going anywhere.’ The man’s voice hardened. ‘My fight is here, in the Disputed Zone, with Sienna Khan and the White Fang. My fight is with those who would…’

‘I’m not here to argue philosophy, Colonel. I’m here to serve a warrant.’

‘Gods man, think for yourself! Don’t mindlessly follow the orders of those above you.’ Iris stretched out his hand. ‘Do the right thing, not just the thing you were _told!_ ’

Clover slid his scroll away. ‘Orders are orders, sir. But as it happens? These are ones I very much agree with. Don’t turn this into a fight.’

‘Or what?’

‘I’m a soldier, sir, not police. I’m not obligated to use less-than-lethal force to bring you in.’

Iris’ lips twisted into a sneer as he raised his arm. ‘I couldn’t agree more.’

The sun crested the hills that gave Hidden Valley its name, shining right over Clover’s shoulder and into the eyes of the gunners in the watchtowers. Their first bursts, aimed squarely at his chest, cut through empty air as Clover rolled into cover.

Beside Marrow, Elm gave a quiet sigh. ‘Why do they always pick the hard way?’

Marrow jammed his hands over his ears as Elm shouldered her weapon. There were twin blasts of heat and light as the rocket assisted projectiles hissed through the air and slammed into the two guard towers firing on Clover. Anti-Grimm rounds, Marrow knew, were designed to breach bone armour and explode inside. They did just as good a job slamming through the steel armour of the watchtowers. The high explosive cores triggered an instant later, hundreds of ball bearings shooting out in every direction.

The gunners would have died instantly. It was the rest of the Mistralians on the ground that started screaming as the shrapnel slammed into them.

Clover’s voice was cold. ‘Execute.’

A series of high pitched cracks echoed through the valley, the militia surrounding Colonel Iris reeling as high calibre rounds from the commando team’s sniper smacked into aura if they were lucky and flesh if they were not. Nico alternated between targets, focusing on landing hits on those protected by aura to keep them off balance as Elm lead Marrow and Flax toward the compound.

Clover had already vaulted the fence, his weapon’s hook arcing toward Colonel Iris before he could flee. One of the guards intercepted it, swinging an axe overhanded. The operative parried effortlessly, sidestepping two swipes before hooking the man’s leg and tripping him up. Marrow had only been a kid when he had seen the rising star of Atlas win his final Vytal match with a similar move. Unlike then, however, Clover didn’t graciously accept his opponent’s surrender. He kicked him unconscious with his boot and moved on to the next target.

Elm hit the gate of the compound shoulder first, the timber shattering like toothpicks. She moved with as much grace as Clover, not a single part of her momentum waisted as she unlimbered her hammer. The first man she struck was lucky, his aura absorbing most of the impact and saving his vital organs. He tumbled to the ground and lay still, unconscious but probably alive. The second caught a glancing blow, a sharp cry leaving her lips as her arm twisted at an unnatural angle. The third was less fortunate, Elm planting both feet on her backswing for added torque. Marrow looked away, but he still heard the strangled shriek preceding the wet sound of meat being pulverised.

‘Rookie, snap out of it!’ Flax snarled at him. The rabbit faunus had slung his carbine in favour of engaging the next militiaman with his hatchet. The Mistralian didn’t stand a chance. None of them stood a chance.

Marrow stood still, Fetch frozen in his hands as the gunfire and screams echoed all around him and a thousand miles away. He saw one running at him, a woman with her face locked in fury. She had a huntress’s weapon, but not a huntress’s training. He could see a dozen faults in her stance, in her grip, in the telegraphed opener that would let him duck, sweep her legs and finish her on the ground.

He didn’t move.

A hand seized Marrow’s collar and pulled him aside. A golden shield snapped to life around him, the woman bouncing off its surface with a startled cry.

‘Harriet!’ Tortuga barked, his hand thrust into the air.

‘I got her!’ Harriet struck the woman at full speed, delivering a series of mechanically assisted punches to her chest and gut as she threw her backwards. ‘You got the rookie?’

‘Got him!’ Tortuga kept his domed shield raised as the rest of the Ace Ops attacked from the dock. Marrow hadn’t even heard any radio chatter from them, but a quick glance showed that the guards who’d been posted at the boats were now floating in the creek.

‘Stand down!’ Clover demanded again. ‘You’re outmatched, stand down!’

Some complied, throwing down their weapons and falling to their knees with their hands raised. Others were enraged by the cowardice of their comrades, throwing themselves at the Atlas troops with suicidal recklessness. Whether by Elm’s hammer, Harriet’s fist or Clover’s fishing rod, they were quickly felled.

‘Vine?’

‘I have the target,’ Vine appeared from the rear of the compound, pushing a bound and struggling Colonel Iris in front of him. ‘Like you thought, he tried to make a run out the back the second the shooting started.’

Clover chuckled as he holstered his weapon. ‘A good fisherman knows exactly where to cast his nets.’

Harriet and Tortuga both groaned.

‘No more fishing metaphors,’ Harriet begged. ‘Enough. We’re all sick of them.’

‘We get it,’ Tortuga said. ‘You grew up in a fishing village.’

‘You only tell us, oh…five or six times a day?’ Elm added.

Clover gave them an offended look before turning back to Marrow. ‘How are you feeling, rookie?’

Marrow glanced around. The smouldering ruins of the guard towers. The dead still leaking blood onto the ground. The wounded moaning in agony.

He started vomiting onto his boots.

Clover patted him on the back. ‘Be it the tides of war or the tides of the sea, few men keep their stomach on the first voyage.’

Something bounced off Clover’s head. He glared at the rest of his team. ‘Alright, who threw that?’

\-------------------------

Clover removed the bag and the gag from the target’s head. ‘Just so you know before I remove the cuffs, there are four specialists on guard and the cell walls are double lined. If you attempt to activate your aura, use your semblance or escape, this cell will be flooded with anaesthetic gas.’

‘I’m well aware of the precautions Atlas takes with its prisoners,’ Colonel Iris sneered. ‘I’m not stupid enough to try.’

‘But you _were_ stupid enough to think you could get away with raiding and burning faunus settlements.’ James Ironwood stepped into the room without fanfare. He was wearing standard jungle green today rather than a dress uniform, Due Process resting under his left arm in a leather shoulder holster. ‘I expected better from a graduate of a Huntsman Academy, Colonel Iris.’

The man at the table glared at him coldly. ‘James. I should have guessed.’

‘My friends call me James.’ He dropped into the seat across from him as Clover finished adjusting the captive’s restraints. ‘To you, it’s General.’

‘I thought we were comrades?’ Ethan Iris sneered. ‘Fellow graduates of Atlas Academy?’

‘We were,’ James said. ‘But you resigned your commission to come and play mercenary down here in Mistral. Tell me, how much did your friends in the Assembly pay you to raid those farms?’

‘They didn’t have to pay me a damn thing,’ Colonel Iris said. ‘I volunteered for service with the local militia. Someone had to stand up to those terrorists.’

Clover pulled up a holoscreen, several pictures of burning buildings and scattered bodies dotted across a green landscape. ‘I was unaware that innocent farmer and their children were classified as terrorists.’

‘Terrorist sympathisers.’ The man didn’t flinch at the sight of the carnage. ‘You don’t understand what it’s like down here, James. The filth sneaks across the border, arm themselves from hidden caches and raise merry hell in every village and hamlet. Then they sneak back across, hide their weapons and pretend to be innocent farmers. Every farm we hit was one we’d tracked the White Fang back to. They got what was coming to them, every last one.’

James caught Clover’s eye and gave a small shake of his head. Clover nodded and collapsed the holoscreen. ‘You’ll have plenty of time to refine those arguments for the judges at the Vytal Court. Work on them. They don’t sound too convincing to me. Goodbye, Ethan.’

Winter was waiting for him in the hallway outside the interrogation room, the distasteful expression on her face indicating that she’d been watching from the observation room. ‘Vile man.’

‘He wasn’t always’ James said. The military police moved in to secure the disgraced officer, this time moving him without the black bag he’d arrived in. ‘Up until a few years ago I think you would have found him quite sympathetic to the faunus.’

‘What changed?’ Clover asked, his eyes tracking the man’s frail shoulders as he was escorted toward a holding cell.

‘White Fang car bomb killed his wife and both of his daughters in Northern Mistral.’ His right fist clenched involuntarily. ‘I believe they were aiming for a local SDC executive. They missed.’

Winter had paled considerably at the words, but the steel never left her eyes. ‘It doesn’t excuse what he’s done. He hasn’t gotten justice for his children, he’s just made more innocent victims.’

 _And more potential enemies_. James didn’t want to say it aloud, but it was obvious enough. How many more grieving fathers and mothers would flock to the White Fang’s banner? How many outraged faunus who would never have taken up arms otherwise?

‘Clover, how soon can your team be ready for the raid south?’

Clover perked up. ‘You’re approving the mission?’

‘I don’t see that I have much of a choice anymore.’ Ironwood pushed the door open and once again winced as the wet heat settled over his skin. ‘We’ve paralysed the militia. Once the White Fang finds out, they’ll raid from here to the coast. Sienna already knows we don’t have enough troops to stop her.’

‘I’ll get the Ace Ops refitted immediately. We can leave tomorrow.’

‘Tonight, if you can.’ Ironwood glanced around. ‘Where are they now?’

\---------------------------

‘Bacon and egg roll?’ Tortuga held out the paper-wrapped treat to Marrow. ‘I put extra cheese and hollandaise sauce in mine.’

Marrow got one whiff of it and promptly vomited again.

Non-plussed, Tortuga took a bite. ‘Huh, doesn’t taste that bad to me.’

\------------------------------

Adam was brooding.

Normally he would have called it thinking. And he liked to do his thinking somewhere quiet, with a nice view. And, if he were going somewhere quiet with a nice view, he didn’t go without his sword.

If Vernal wanted to call that brooding, that was her business. Adam had long stooped arguing the point with her.

The camp had moved twice over the last two weeks. The Branwens had ever been a mobile clan, adept at collapsing and re-establishing themselves quickly and without fanfare. Fresh hunting grounds, close enough to Lake Matsu for fishing, and slightly fatter farmers to tax.

Life should have been good.

‘What are you doing?’ Vernal chirruped, jumping off the higher rocks to land beside him.

‘Brooding.’ Adam didn’t take his eyes off the crystal-clear water below them. ‘Go away.’

‘What are you brooding about?’ Vernal took a seat next to him. ‘The Schnees? The weather? The inherent contradiction of subjective morality?’

‘What?’

‘Nothing, just something I read in a book once.’

Adam just grunted. Turning away from her. ‘I don’t want to talk about it.’

‘Okay.’ Vernal flopped over onto her front, kicking her legs up as she stared down at the water. ‘I guess I’ll just lie here and enjoy the view.’

‘Find your own spot.’

‘No. The view’s better here.’

Adam growled again. It was a useless gesture. Though he won as many fights as he lost, Vernal wasn’t the least bit afraid of him. Perhaps because she thought that if it really came down to a life and death fight, she would win? Perhaps she was right. He couldn’t quite say. Right now she’d probably have the edge, if only because it felt like there was an icepick being driven into his skull.

‘Maybe _you’d_ be able to enjoy the view a bit better if you took that mask off,’ Vernal said. ‘It can’t be healthy for the skin, always having that thing on.’

Thanks to the incident with the skin infection, she knew full well that it wasn’t. Adam considered which he hated more. Her constant undermining of him in front of Raven or her incessant habit of being right?

‘Come on, get some sun.’ Vernal began kicking off her boots. ‘Ditch the jacket, it’s a hot day.’

She was unlikely to shut up until he gave ground, so Adam chose the least offensive path. He took his mask off, laying it gently on the rock beside him. Vernal had a strange half grin on her face as he glared back at her. Her eyes were lighter than his. Brighter. Always catching the light in a way that…

‘Now isn’t the view better?’

Adam sighed. ‘I guess.’

The river out of the mountains had slowed to a gentle crawl this close to Lake Matsu. Below them, three large pools fed into each other, connected by a series of smooth, gentle rapids. The late summer sun drifted lazily over all. He could see small fish darting around at the bottom, while colourful songbirds sang cheerfully from the shady trees.

In the quarry he’d fallen asleep dreaming of places like this. Warm, comfortable, with meat and bread and something fizzy to drink. He even had a pretty girl at his side, which hadn’t become a fixture in those dreams till much later on.

‘You’ve been with the tribe your whole life, haven’t you?’

‘Far as I can tell, yeah.’ Vernal flicked him a curious glance. ‘I wasn’t picked up on a raid or anything, so I figure I was born here.’

‘Do you remember Raven from when you were young?’

‘Like real young? Nah. She left to train as a huntress along with her traitor brother long before I was born.’ Sitting up, she looked back toward the camp. ‘She got back…oh, maybe when I was about ten or eleven? Not many people were happy to see her.’

‘Why?’

‘Because she was meant to spend four years in Beacon and then come back with Qrow to teach us all how to kill huntsmen.’ Vernal shrugged. ‘Not many people were happy that she’d apparently found a cute slam-piece and popped out a kid in the meantime. The old chief reckoned she’d gone soft. Challenged her in the ring.’

Adam didn’t need to speculate what had happened to the old chief. ‘And they accepted her after that?’

Vernal rolled her eyes. ‘It wasn’t like the old chief was much of a challenge for her. A lot of the best fighters still reckoned she was a false chief. Talked about splitting off and starting their own clans. Wasn’t enough for Raven to be the strongest, she had to be the most profitable as well.’

Adam knew the rest well enough. ‘The raid on Atlas?’

‘Spent enough time with one of our best fighters to form a bond, then sent him across to find a nice, isolated SDC quarry with plenty of dust and plenty of skilled faunus workers. She opens a portal, the tribe storms through and brings back a couple of tons of dust, a couple of dozen healthy workers we can ransom back to the SDC for a tidy profit…’ Vernal paused, a grin creeping onto her face. ‘And you.’

Strangely enough, Adam felt himself grinning back. ‘Wait, wait…so all those times you acted insecure about being Raven’s student…you _were_?’

Her glare was poisonous. ‘Fuck off, Adam.’

‘You were!’ Adam crowed. ‘You were worried she was going to favour me over you, so you…’

If he’d really thought about it, Adam knew he should have predicted the boot that struck him in the chest and sent him reeling back off the cliff. Still, he couldn’t help but feel smug before he hit the water below. The impact drove all the breath out of him, but he surfaced with a gurgling laugh.

‘I hope you broke your back.’ Vernal called down. ‘Do I need to drop a rock to finish you off?’

For some reason, Adam couldn’t keep a grip of the dark mood that had seized him all morning, even with water soaking into his boots. ‘Come on in, the water’s beautiful!’

‘And get all my clothes wet like you?’ Vernal’s sneer showed what she thought of that idea. ‘No thanks.’

‘You don’t need to wear clothes…’

‘Pervert.’

‘Well, looks like I’ll have to come push you in then.’ Sinking himself to the bottom of the pool, Adam pushed himself up with enough force to spring clear of the water, flipping from rock to rock as he rapidly scaled back up the cliff. ‘Now then…’

He froze.

Vernal offered him a mocking grin. The grin was about all she was wearing. ‘Well? Unless you’re scared?’

A few minutes later the songbirds were disrupted in their song by two loud splashes and raucous, carefree laughter. Ruffling their feathers indignantly, they flew off in search of calmer locales and a more appropriately clothed audience.

\------------------------------------

The sun had gone well past noon by the time Adam and Vernal had finished enjoying the natural rock slides, their improvised high diving platform and the cool, crystal water. Laid out on a rock, the sun had dried most of their clothes and pleasantly warmed them. Adam pulled on his pants and undershirt, while Vernal decided to help herself to his jacket while the rest of her outfit dried out. He’d tossed her clothes in to make things even.

It was the work of a few minutes to catch and prepare a fish, Vernal busying herself with a small fire to cook it over. Adam had brought bread, cheese and a small bottle of wine in his rucksack. The improvised picnic went down easily after the impromptu exercise, and soon they found themselves lolling easily in the shade on the same side of the fire. Almost, but not quite, resting against each other.

‘I _was_ jealous,’ Vernal murmured, a sleepy note in her voice. ‘She seemed to pity you. She never gave anyone else half as much attention as you.’

‘Half of that attention was her beating me black and blue with a training sword.’

‘And look what you became because of it,’ Vernal gestured toward his sword and mask. ‘You’re feared. Respected. You have rank and reputation within the clan. We’ll both be raid captains before long.’

‘Then what?’

‘Then what what?’ She nestled down further, resting her head on his shoulder. ‘Do you always need to be so godsdamned cryptic? Just say what you’re thinking and stop spinning it into a riddle.’

‘Alright, alright.’ Adam wiped some of the crusty sand away from his branded eye, closing it against the glare of the sun. ‘Have you ever thought about a life outside the tribe?’

Vernal sat up, the sleep leaving her eyes as she glared at him. ‘Don’t joke about that.’

‘I’m serious.’ Adam gestured his head toward Mistral City. ‘The tribe isn’t the only thing out there. There are dozens of different towns. Different cities.’

‘Adam, stop…’

‘We could go see Vale.’ Adam sat up, the plan forming before his eyes now that he’d thought of it. ‘See the lights of Beacon. Cross into Vacuo in the south…walk through the Samson Valley...’

‘And what?’ Vernal challenged. ‘See the local sights? Earn our living picking fruit?’

‘We could be mercenaries. Sell our blades to those as can pay.’ Adam nodded toward their weapons. ‘We’re a match for any huntsmen. Could probably charge just as much.’

‘Yeah, a first year huntsman maybe.’ Her scowl was deepening. ‘Just say you did it. What would be your plan afterwards? Hmm? Come back to the tribe? You’d have to fight your way back in just like Raven did. And you won’t be a match for her for another ten years.’

‘What if…what if we didn’t come back?’ Adam bit his lip. ‘What if we found our own place?’

‘Like Raven’s traitor brother?’

‘He’s not doing too bad for himself.’

‘He’s become a soft city-dweller.’ Vernal corrected him. ‘He abandoned his tribe for a soft life.’

‘And Raven abandoned her husband and daughter.’

Vernal was silent, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of his stolen coat. ‘They were weak. She couldn’t bring them back to the tribe.’

‘What does that matter?’ Adam demanded. ‘Isn’t that the whole point of the tribe? That you look after your family? Your people?’

‘Yes. And they weren’t her people.’ Vernal started to stand, but Adam grabbed her arm. ‘Hey…’

‘It might be different in the cities,’ Adam said. ‘But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t have value. She made a vow, Vernal. Getting married in the cities…it’s important. They make promises. Raven…she broke her vows. She threw away the memories they made together. She threw away the _child_ they made together. Because what? Because they weren’t _good_ enough for her? Not _strong_ enough? If she’d do that to them, where does that leave us?’

Vernal pulled her arm free. ‘It leaves us as the people who _are_ strong enough.’

‘Vernal…’

‘No, you know what your problem is?’ Vernal jabbed him in the chest as he stood to follow her. ‘You’re afraid.’

A snarl rose unbidden in Adam’s chest. ‘I’m not afraid of anything.’

‘What about being abandoned? You seem pretty terrified of that.’ Vernal saw right through his attempt to mask his flinch. ‘See, you’re so afraid of getting left behind, but you’re the only one talking about leaving. What? You gonna abandon her before she gets the chance to abandon you?’

That stung. Far deeper than any beating she’d ever laid on him. ‘That’s not what I meant at all.’

‘Then what? _What_ , Adam? What is it you want?’

Adam clenched his fists. ‘I don’t know. I want…I want…’

‘That’s something I’d like to know as well.’ A husky voice spoke from the trees.

Adam and Vernal both snapped toward the voice, standing straighter as Raven stepped out from the greenery. Despite her clashing colour scheme, she’d stood practically undetected while they argued.

Adam bowed his head. ‘How much did you hear?’

‘Enough,’ Raven said. Her sword was still sheathed, but Adam had seen her draw it fast enough to slice a huntsman’s throat before he could raise his aura. And Adam’s own sword was still leaning against a rock. ‘Enough to be mildly insulted. Especially since you decided to drop words in Vernal’s ears while my back was turned. Pity. Seems like it ruined the moment.’

‘I wasn’t trying to undermine you.’ Adam swallowed heavily as she stepped up next to him. ‘I never meant to say anything…’

‘And if I thought otherwise, you and I would be going back to camp and stepping into the ring with live steel.’ Raven rested a gentle hand on his shoulder. ‘Calm down, Adam. I’m not here to chastise you. I just thought I’d come down and enjoy the view. I was young and in love too, once.’

Vernal immediately said something very rude, even as her cheeks darkened. Adam looked down. Raven’s smile was almost benevolent.

‘The art of leadership, Adam, is preventing small problems from becoming large ones. Something you must learn if you ever want to take my place someday.’

‘Over my dead body,’ Vernal muttered, but Raven ignored her.

‘So I think it’s time I corrected a few flaws in your thinking.’ Her grim tightened and Adam tried to not flinch as her sharp nails dug into the naked skin of his shoulder. ‘You may indeed leave the camp. We Branwens do not hold any of our own members against their will. We simply do not accept them back until they have proven their strength. But what will you do? Where will you go? How will you earn your living if not by your blade?’

She released his shoulder and walked to the rock his sword leaned against. With a flourish, she drew the red steel clear. ‘This sword is more than just steel and fire dust. It is your story, Adam. Something others saw as useless, junk to be thrown away. And yet it has been repurposed. Reforged. Hammered and sharpened into something of worth. Will you throw this blade away?’

‘I…I could.’ Adam looked up, trying not to show the sudden swell of rage from showing on his face. ‘I could adapt.’

‘Would you?’ Raven flicked the blade over, testing the edge against a few hairs on her arm. ‘Would you become a miner again, perhaps? Or till and reap a field?’

‘I could do engraving.’ Adam nodded toward his sword’s hilt.

‘Oh, I’m sure you’d fit right in as a jeweller in Vale. But the sword might stand out too much.’ Raven sheathed Wilt and extended it toward him. ‘Best get rid of it.’

Adam stared at the sword, something in his mind screaming he was walking into a trap. ‘Raven?’

‘You said you could earn a living without a sword.’ Raven shrugged. ‘Prove it. Shoot Wilt into the lake and break Blush over your knee. You won’t need, right? Come on. Take it.’

She pressed it into his chest until he accepted the weight. Vernal stepped back, blue eyes dancing between them and her teeth biting down on her bottom lip like they always did when she was nervous.

Slowly, Adam lifted Blush up to aim at the sea, his hand tightening around the trigger. The decision was already made before he reached his mark. The weapon fell back to his side, his hand clenched tight around the hilt.

‘I can’t.’

‘No.’ Raven tapped him right between his horns. ‘You can. But you won’t. You won’t ever throw away this sword, Adam. You won’t ever lay it down. Because this sword is power. And you know far too well what it is to be powerless.’

_‘Make it stop! Please, make it stop!’_

_Hot steel pressing into his eye. Worse than the smell, worse than the pain, was knowing. Knowing he would never see the world out of his left eye ever again. A pathetic voice begging. Begging the guards, begging the gods, begging the forgotten face of his mother over and over until the heat melted the words to a single scream._

‘Yes.’ He whispered. ‘I know.’

‘You are a _warrior_ , Adam.’ Raven gripped his chin and forced his eyes to meet hers. ‘You already know you can never be anything else. You already know that you will live and die by the blade. Anywhere else that might make you a monster. But among us, it makes you kin. You already know.’

‘I’m sorry. I was just thinking aloud.’

Raven nodded, the afternoon sun dancing off her crimson eyes. ‘And here’s another thought. If I had stuck by my weak husband and my daughter, been the housewife you seem to think I should have been, then who would have rescued poor little Adam?’

He had no answer. They both knew it. She was just twisting the knife. ‘When I found you, Adam, you were a few days from death. No family. No one who loved you or cared for you. Just a half-blind boy too weak to work and too proud to beg. How would you have rated your chances of survival?’

‘I…’ Adam couldn’t retreat from her gaze. ‘I would have found a way.’

‘The way was me.’ Raven finally released his chin. ‘The way was our tribe. You might think I am heartless for leaving my child behind. But did I leave you behind? Even when it seemed you were just eating good food without any gain for us?’

Adam closed his eyes. ‘No.’

Raven looked at him for a few moments longer, then gave a short nod as if finally satisfied. ‘Do not forget that you were chosen by me. Both of you. For your talent. For your strength. For your _will_.’

Vernal inched closer, a hopeful gleam in her eyes. Like the storm had passed and left only a bright sun.

‘I do not abandon those who have pleased me.’ Raven reached out again, placing a hand on Vernal’s left cheek and Adam’s right. ‘Have faith that I will not abandon you, my precious students. Have faith that you are dear to me, not in spite of not sharing my blood, but because of it.’

With his teacher’s hand on his face and his rival smiling shyly at him, thoughts of the lights of Beacon and the cliffs of the Samson Valley began to fade away form Adam’s mind. He’d be nothing to the rest of the world but a servant among commoners. Here, at least, he was a prince among warriors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to Arc III. All aboard for daring commando raids, backstabbing, assassinations and Raven making sure all her favourite tools remain loyal and compliant. Oh, and the Dance Arc will be in there somewhere.


	24. 'the man with an evil laugh'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sienna Khan and Ironwood set their plans into motion against each other. JSPR and BYRN begin to notice Bella's insistence on Ruby's safety, and Roman makes an offer to a member of Team CESM.

The two men hit their knees with a grunt. The woman resisted all efforts by Corsac Albain to shove her downwards.

‘Get on your knees, Atlesian scum,’ Corsac growled. ‘You’re in the presence of the High Leader.’

‘The only present here is me,’ the woman retorted. ‘Look, I’ll get on my knees but you have to ask nicely.’

Corsac looked at the woman, then down at the knife in his hand, then back up at her. ‘No I don’t. I really don’t.’

‘Well then I’m not getting on my knees then, am I?’

Corsac drew his hand back, only to have it caught at the zenith.

‘Would you please get down on your knees?’ Fennec Albain drew his brother back, smiling politely at the woman.

The woman gave him a sly wink. ‘See, all a girl wants is to be asked nicely sometimes.’

She got on her knees beside the two men, both of whom looked slightly nauseated by the exchange. Sienna Khan couldn’t exactly blame them. Of all the Atlesian prisoners, the grey-haired woman had been the most troublesome. Less for her attempts to escape, more for her rampant flirting with every young man, or old one, that was sent to guard the stockade.

‘You can sit if you like.’ Sienna gestured to the carpet before her. ‘I can even organise some refreshments.’

The older of the two men shook his head. ‘Unless the same food is served to my troopers, I cannot accept any special favours or comforts.’

Sienna’s smile didn’t fade. ‘Agreed, then. Fennec? Please see that Captain King’s men and women are given the same food and drink we serve here.’

‘Of course, High Leader.’ Fennec inclined his head. ‘Shall I have them let out for exercise as well?’

‘Please. A full hour in the yard.’ She noted the younger man relaxing slightly at the words, but the older one didn’t lose the stiffness in his shoulders. Nor did the woman ever take her eyes off Corsac.

Some of the volunteers serving in the field kitchen brought in a few plates. Simple fare, about the same as Sienna had eaten for months. She was sick to death of the taste of fish, but there was no use longing for a steak when the river was teeming with carp and bream. The Atlas prisoners ate without complaint. Indeed, they seemed quite eager.

Two meals a day, combined with regular exercise, was more than enough to satisfy the requirements of the Vytal Treaty, but these were humans. They weren’t like her people. They didn’t truly know what it was like to go hungry. Introduce a little privation and the cracks became apparent. She was certain that no White Fang fighter could ever be won over by something as simple as food.

‘Fennec tells me you still refuse to answer our questions, Captain King.’ Sienna took an idle sip of the wine at her side. In truth, it was heavily watered down, the wine being there to alleviate the flat taste of purified river water, but it did serve as an indication of her status. Power, after all, was less about what you had and more about how others perceived you. ‘I would hate to think that you’re taking advantage of our hospitality.’

‘Hardly, Miss Khan.’ The man’s manners were impeccable, his wooden knife and fork held exactly the same as every other Atlas elite she’d seen on her visits to the kingdom as Ghira’s right hand. ‘The Vytal Treaty compels prisoners of war to provide their name, rank, serial number and date of birth. All of which I have provided, along with my troops.’

‘High Leader Khan, to you.’ A young voice, filled with anger, spoke from Sienna’s side. Ilia stepped forward, her arms locked across her chest and her eyes narrowed in a fierce glare. ‘Show some respect.’

Captain King did not so much as spare the young fighter a glance. ‘As I said, Miss Khan, I have fulfilled my legal obligations as a soldier. I trust you have fulfilled yours and notified Atlas of our capture and good health?’

‘Of course, Captain. May I call you Buck?’

‘You may call me whatever you wish, Miss Khan.’ The officer inclined his head. ‘Might I call you Sienna?’

‘Naturally. I would hate for there to be so much formality when there may soon enough be a peace treaty.’

‘Oh? Then you have decided to surrender?’

Illia took a step forward, her hand shooting to her weapon. Sienna held up a hand. ‘Now, now, Ilia. Allow our guests their moment of defiance. It is the only weapon they have left, after all.’

Looking back at Captain King, she offered him a patient smile. ‘The impetuousness of youth, you understand.’

‘Of course.’ King looked over at the younger man. ‘Why, young Frederic here has a touch of that himself. What with him being five and all.’

‘Five?’ Sienna raised an eyebrow. ‘He’s very tall for his age.’

‘Ah, but it’s a most ingenious paradox,’ King said. The younger officer looked utterly humiliated, but the grey-haired woman snickered loudly. ‘Ruth and I figured it out, you see. Frederic was born in a leap year, on the extra day itself. And so, whilst he’s technically been alive twenty one years…’

‘…I’m really a boy of five,’ Frederic finished. ‘Yes, yes, you’ve been making that joke for months, sir.’

‘Ah, but this is the first time I’ve been able to make it to a terrorist,’ King smiled broadly. ‘It’s far too good of a joke not to share. It would be impolite to keep it to ourselves.’

‘Well, you’ve risked life and limb to tell it to me.’ Sienna beckoned Fennec over. He handed her the notepad she’d given to him earlier for just such a purpose. ‘You have impeccable manners, Buck. As to be expected from a man of your birth and breeding.’

The man’s smile froze on his face. Sienna couldn’t lie. She always enjoyed this part.

‘Buckland King. Son of prominent Atlas nobility, fifth generation. Forced to join the army after your family refused to pay your gambling debts. Caused a minor scandal when you absconded with one of the family maids, a faunus no less. A classic case of a nobleman gone wrong.’

Sienna held up a picture and inspected it closely. ‘You make a handsome couple, I must say. I hope she was worth the fortune you gave up to marry her?’

In a dirtied and dishevelled uniform, with a thick beard now gracing his face, Captain King was a far cry from the immaculately groomed man in the photograph, whose proud smile and adoring eyes were gazing down on a homely young woman with sleek weasel ears, bouncing a grinning toddler on her lap.

‘If you touch them…’

Sienna raised her hand. ‘I’m not a killer of innocent women and children, Captain, so please don’t waste your energy on empty threats. This photo was taken from your wife’s social media pages. You of all people should know that those things are gold mines for intelligence gathering.’

‘So I’ve heard.’ King swallowed heavily, the urgency of his rage fading as his eyes tracked back to Ilia. ‘Well, I shouldn’t be worried. The White Fang has never been able to conduct a successful attack on Atlas itself.’

‘This is true. Still, there is a first time for everything.’

‘I take it there’s a purpose behind this little display of power?’

‘There’s a purpose behind every display of power.’ Sienna shifted back onto her camp chair, longing privately for the comfort of her armchair back in Menagerie. ‘You know, I once watched an Elevation Day parade in Atlas just before Chief Belladonna was assassinated. Floats, mechs, incredible displays of technology, a dance troupe and even a performance by Weiss Schnee herself. In all of that glamour and excess, the military portion of the parade seemed almost pedestrian in comparison.’

‘Can’t blame you. I would have missed the parade if I could. Weeks spent training for that thing, and hours polishing my brass.’

‘Indeed. Still, there was a quite a bit to see. Three battalions of infantry marching in lockstep, an aerial display of the new Manta gunship, a firepower demonstration of the prototype armoured battlesuit. Neat enough, but compared to everything else there was to see it seemed almost boring.’

She leaned forward. ‘I felt like I was the only one who saw the point. Atlas put a lot of advanced technology on display that day, and the military was the least innovative part of it. General Nightsong wanted the world to know that there was nothing experimental about his army. It was a settled science and ready for action at a moment’s notice.’

‘Perhaps you’re reading a little too much into it.’ King forced a grin onto his face. ‘Maybe it was just a boring parade that year?’

‘Hmm…maybe. But I doubt it. If my time as a commander has taught me anything, it is that there is always a purpose to ever action, no matter how small the details might be.’ Sienna glanced at the picture in her hands again. ‘Speaking of details, I notice that you’re wearing captain’s insignia in this photo as well. It’s what, seven or eight years old?’

‘Just about.’

‘And still a captain?’

‘Promotion comes slow in a peacetime army.’

‘And yet in eight years James Ironwood has climbed from colonel to full general.’

‘PAR season must have been kinder to him than me.’

‘Or he doesn’t have a faunus wife and child holding his career back?’ Sienna raised an eyebrow.

King didn’t answer, his lips tightening as he realised the trap he’d walked into. Sienna stood, satisfied her point had been made. ‘As you have no doubt guessed, Captain, you will be our prisoner for the duration of hostilities. That could be a month or it could be a year. But we will not give up this fight until we have achieved our goals.’

Frederic snorted. ‘You’ll be waiting a long time, then. General Ironwood will not give up this campaign until the White Fang are defeated.’

‘Then you, Lieutenant Young, will be waiting a long time for your wedding.’ Sienna flicked over the page in her notepad. ‘Your fiancé looks like a lovely young woman. Mabel. Such a pretty name.’

Frederic stilled, his face paling. The edge of defiance didn’t fade from his eyes, however. ‘So you can surf Rapidgram. Congratulations for being old and able to use technology. What are you going to try and threaten Ruth with? The fact she likes younger men?’

‘You don’t need Rapidgram for that,’ King added. ‘Most of the brigade is well aware of it. We go to the same bars.’

‘If you have all of her boy toys in there, I might actually be impressed.’ Frederic peered closer at the notebook. ‘She shows up to every unit booze up with a different one on her arm.’

Ruth winked up at Corsac. ‘I’m a free spirit.’

‘Silence,’ Ilia growled. ‘You really think this is a moment to start cracking jokes?’

‘Would you prefer we broken down in tears?’ King’s smile briefly returned. ‘Come on, girl, where’s your sense of humour?’

‘I lost my sense of humour when Atlas killed my parents,’ Ilia said, as if willing him to catch alight with just her eyes.

‘I’m always sympathetic to the plight of orphans.’ Captain King’s lip curled. ‘But I’ve had my soft-heartedness exploited before.’

He turned his gaze back to Sienna. ‘Was there a purpose to any of this? Did you summon us here just to demonstrate your ability to stalk our families online?’

Sienna held his gaze and smiled benignly. ‘Not at all. I simply wished to remind you that you have families that are waiting for you. It is my deepest wish to reunite you as quickly as possible, something that can be made possible if you co-operate.’

‘And co-operation would include?’

‘Answering our questions about the strength of Atlas forces in the Disputed Zone. Making a statement protesting Atlas involvement in this conflict. We may even be able to arrange for your release, provided you take an oath never to raise arms against the White Fang again.’

‘No,’ King said. ‘To all of it. Article Five is quite clear that no Atlas soldier is to accept favours or special treatment whilst a prisoner of war.’

‘Hmm, and I suppose that goes for all of you?’ Sienna said. ‘A pity. Well, I commend you for your convictions. Corsac, return them to the pens. Gently, if you please.’

‘Yes, High Leader.’ Corsac gave a bow. ‘On your feet, human scum.’

‘On your feet, human scum, _if you please_ ,’ Ruth corrected him.

Corsac growled, but Fennec held up his hand. ‘If you please?’

‘See, manners.’ Ruth inclined her head toward the older twin. ‘Pity I prefer muscular men, otherwise you’d have a shot.’

‘And here I thought you preferred younger men?’ Fennec chuckled.

Ilia continued fuming as the prisoners were escorted out, Ruth and Fennec bantering back and forth. Sienna kept her own smile in place, but sighed as her student’s face darkened (literally) with rage.

‘What was that?’ Ilia finally snarled, the guards at the tent entrance sharing a glance at her outburst.

‘That was me getting my point across.’ Sienna took a sip of her watered down wine and cringed. ‘Ugh, I’d kill for a good red from Vale.’

‘You were too easy on them.’ Ilia picked up the notebook from Sienna’s side-table and flicked back to the pictures. ‘You should have threatened their families, forced them to co-operate. We have agents in Atlas, we could have…’

‘I could have,’ Sienna nodded. ‘Which would have had an even chance of breaking their will or stiffening it. There’s safety in vagueness.’

‘You got nothing out of them!’

‘Didn’t I?’ Sienna moved over to central table and began helping herself to the leftover fish and rice. ‘Tell me, Ilia, what did you notice about those three?’

‘That they were typical Atlesians. Arrogant, disdainful…’

‘Did any of them strike you as particularly devoted to their cause? Any particular adherence to the Atlas line?’

Ilia crossed her arms. ‘They cited regulations at you left and right.’

‘Yes. Regulations. General orders. But no propaganda. No readiness to die for the glory of Atlas. People like that, Ilia, will do exactly as much soldiering as they’re paid for and not a second more.’ She nodded toward the notebook in Ilia’s hands. ‘They joined to support their families, for action and adventure in foreign locales and to wear a nice uniform to fancy parades. They don’t believe in their cause like you and I do in ours.’

‘Little better than mercenaries.’ Ilia’s voice dripped with contempt.

‘Well paid mercenaries,’ Sienna said. ‘And well trained. They fight well, and often to the death. But we have time on our side. Time and terrain. I’ve hinted at preferential treatment, perhaps even early release for those who co-operate. That might not sway them now, but what about in a week? A month? When General Ironwood fails to rescue them, how long will they continue to be loyal to him?’

‘That’s your plan, then? Wait them out?’

‘That’s always been my plan.’ She popped another piece of fish in her mouth. ‘Ironwood has a formidable war machine at his disposal. But this is not a proper war. He can only beat me if I choose to fight him on his terms, and I never will.’

Wiping the grease away from her mouth, Sienna turned back to Ilia. ‘Don’t ever mistake restraint for weakness, Ilia. Trust that if I am holding back my strength, it because I, like Ironwood, am waiting for the right time and place to commit it. Right when his perfect machine breaks.’

\----------------------

‘Clover!’ Harriet delivered a steel clad kick to the side of the engine bay. ‘Your “perfect machine” is _fucking_ broken.’

‘Hey, stop kicking the machine, it never did you any harm.’ Tortuga grabbed his partner by the waist before she could deliver another blow. ‘Come on, you’re going to break your foot. Do you really wanna get medevaced back to Atlas?’

‘Yes!’

Tortuga offered an apologetic glance up at Clover. ‘I think we’re going to need a coffee break, boss. Harriet’s about ready to throw hands with this motor and I think it might actually come off second best.’

Clover waved a tired hand, his own arms stained with engine grease. ‘I don’t know if stuffing Harriet with caffeine and sugar is a good idea, but I’m out of better ones. See if you can get her down for a nap.’

‘I heard that, you pricks.’ The short woman snarled from beneath Tortuga’s arm. ‘Don’t try and palm this one off, Clover, this engine is a lemon and I was right the whole time. Tortie, don’t you dare take his side! Put me down!’

Clover sighed with relief as Tortuga carried the still-flailing soldier away. ‘I need to start paying him extra for Harriet-wrangling.’

‘I’ll take it out of your salary.’ General Ironwood stood on the upper deck, his arms folded and his eyes narrowed. ‘You said this engine would be good to go after a tune up, Captain. Insisted against ripping it out and replacing it with a new one like Harriet and Tortuga recommended.’

‘It will be, sir.’ Clover winced as he took another glance into the inner-workings. ‘Some of those parts I got must have been duds. I’m having workshops fabricate some fresh ones now.’

‘How long?’ Ironwood’s tone was that of a man who expected good news and gods help the subordinate who gave him otherwise.

Clover stared back without blinking. ‘Twenty four hours and not a second sooner.’

The glare between them was frosty, but General Ironwood broke first. ‘I want this mess fixed, Clover, and your troops rolling by first light tomorrow.’

‘Understood, sir.’ Clover offered him a nod.

‘Carry on.’ Ironwood spun on his heel, joined by Major Schnee who flung one last disapproving look back at the team before storming off behind the general.

Clover waited until they were both out of sight before letting out the breath he was holding. ‘I swear, sometimes I feel like a naughty kid waiting to get yelled at when the Old Man looks at me like that.’

‘Fatherhood has given him plenty of practice.’ Vine fished out one of the blown bits of pipe at the bottom of the engine bay. ‘Nora was ever a rambunctious child.’

‘Heh, and us roped in as babysitters.’ Elm chuckled as she lifted up one of the engine mounts for Clover to scoot underneath. ‘Join the army, they said. See the world, they said. Next thing I know I’m teaching a ten year old how to swing a hammer.’

‘Service demands sacrifice,’ Clover said absently. ‘Hey, Marrow?’

Marrow jerked his head up. ‘Sir?’

‘Clover,’ he corrected. ‘Could you go check in with the ordnance crew? We’re still missing a few hundred rounds for the forty mike-mike.’

‘Yes, s…Clover.’ Marrow corrected himself. ‘I’ll be right back.’

_The stilettos in Tortuga’s hands flashed in the morning sun, his target choking and clutching at his throat. Harriet’s aura flared as a bullet skated over it, her smirk growing wider as she swept her target’s legs out from under him._

Marrow shook his head, pushing his way past the doors leading out of the hangar. The Mistralians had been criminals. Violent criminals. Murderers who’d gleefully cut down innocent faunus. Torched farms. Drawn in the Grimm and left the settlers to deal with the chaos.

_Elm drove the spike of her hammer into a woman’s stomach, her face built for happy smiles now locked in a grim snarl as she parried a dying cut._

They’d issued the warrant. Given them the chance to surrender. The raid had been signed off by the Mistral Assembly. There was nothing to feel guilty about.

_Colonel Iris was thrust to the ground, Vine’s face blank as he cuffed the man’s hands behind his back and pulled a hood over his head._

The fence of the compound rose before him, still a barrier and still confining, but less so than the walls behind him. His hands sank to his knees, his breath coming fitfully.

‘Deep breaths every four seconds tend to help.’

‘Thanks.’ Marrow waited a few seconds and breathed deeply.

‘Better?’

‘Much.’ Marrow straightened up. ‘Sorry, I…’

His eyes met General Ironwood’s, the man’s lips twitching as he removed a cigarette from between them. Major Schnee stood nearby, her eyes still narrowed in disapproval.

‘General!’ Marrow’s heels shot together. ‘Sir, I…’

‘Don’t salute, Specialist.’ Ironwood stubbed out his cigarette against his boot. ‘Sniper threat, remember.’

‘Y-yes, of course,’ Marrow glanced at Major Schnee, hoping for some help. Her shoulders raised in a faint shrug. ‘I, uh, needed some air.’

‘So I see.’ General Ironwood nodded at his adjutant. ‘That’ll be all, Major. Thank you.’

‘Sir.’ Major Schnee’s eyes managed to convey an awful lot as she shot a stare at Marrow. Things such as _be on your best behaviour._ Despite himself, Marrow shivered. There was something about an adjutant’s eyes that could convey immense pain and suffering without saying very much.

The general seemed to track his mood, his own eyes flicking between them until Major Schnee had withdrawn. ‘I don’t know what effect she has on the enemy, but by the gods she frightens me.’

‘Of course, sir.’ Marrow folded his arms behind his back. ‘Ah, what…how…how are you enjoying the weather, sir?’

General Ironwood reached into his jacket. ‘Specialist Amin, isn’t it?’ He produced a cardboard packet of cigarettes. ‘Graduated last year, I believe.’

‘Yes, sir. Just finished my reinforcement cycle at Camp Growler.’ Marrow glanced down at the packet. ‘I…I don’t smoke, sir.’

‘I shouldn’t either.’ The general fished out a white stick and lifted it to his lips. ‘Between Doctor Polendina and my daughter, there wouldn’t be much left of me if they caught me doing this. Strange that I can only indulge my vices when I’m on campaign. But then again, most of us do. Easier to excuse our flaws when every day brings its own chance of dying.’

Marrow remained quiet. Partly because he’d been helping himself to an extra omelette in the mess hall every breakfast on the same reasoning, but mostly because he had no idea what to say. General Ironwood seemed content to enjoy his cigarette and continue staring at the jungle beyond.

‘That was a good action this morning,’ Ironwood said. ‘Surprisingly clean for a strike like this. Mission accomplished without casualties, military or civilian.’

‘We’re not counting the people we killed?’ The words were out of Marrow’s mouth before he could stop them. ‘I…I’m sorry, it’s not my place.’

‘Speak your mind, Specialist.’ Ironwood took a deep inhale of his cigarette. ‘They don’t make you a general if you can’t take a little criticism every now and then.’

It was an invitation. Vague, but it was there. Marrow blurted out his question before his better judgement could stop him. ‘Was this morning necessary, sir?’

Ironwood’s eyebrow flicked up. ‘Necessary?’

It was too late to turn back now. ‘Did we really need to go in that hard, sir?’

‘You mean with the Ace Ops?’

‘It was like using a sledgehammer to crack an egg.’

The general laughed at that, surprising Marrow again with the sound. ‘Yes…yes, it was. That’s a good one…’

‘Sir, I…’

‘Are you saying that the Ace Ops were too effective? Or too violent?’

‘They…they were efficient, sir.’ Efficient and ruthless and without a second’s hesitation.

‘Good. Efficiency is what they’re trained and paid for.’

‘Even when they’re killing people?’

‘Would you have preferred they kill them inefficiently?’ Ironwood said. ‘Or would you rather it was them lying in the morgue right now?’

Marrow bristled. ‘That’s not it at all.’

‘I know, I know.’ Ironwood held up a hand. ‘I apologise, Specialist. That was poorly said.’

‘It’s fine,’ Marrow said, turning away. ‘I just…I didn’t think it would be like that.’

‘Like what?’ The general blew away a cloud of smoke. ‘A battle?’

Marrow’s head sunk. If he hadn’t already brought up all the food in his stomach he’d probably be coughing up fresh chunks right now. ‘I froze this morning, sir. First bullet went past my head and I just…I just couldn’t move.’

‘I heard.’ Ironwood’s tone gave nothing away. ‘Why do you think you froze?’

‘Sir?’

‘Well, I wasn’t there. The Ace Ops were too busy to observe you. Yours is the only account I can rely on, so why do you think you froze?’

‘Because…because…’ Even after reckoning with the answer for hours, Marrow still didn’t want to give it. ‘I…I wasn’t ready.’

‘That’s not it.’

Marrow’s eyes snapped up. Ironwood stubbed out the last of his cigarette on the gravel. ‘You had four years of the best combat training Atlas can provide. You’ve been on dozens of training missions against the Grimm. I know. I graded your reports myself. Your instructors praised you for quick decision making and peerless bravery.’

‘They were Grimm, sir.’

‘It’s different.’ Ironwood stared past him toward the jungle, periwinkle eyes glinting in the sunlight. ‘It’s always different when they’re shooting back at you. You find out what you’re made of pretty quickly.’

‘Is that what happened at Stockade Five, sir?’

Ironwood’s gaze snapped back to him, eyes narrowing. ‘And what did you hear about Stockade Five, Specialist?’

 _That what happened this morning looked like children beating each other with sticks in comparison_.

‘You hear stories in the ranks, sir. It’s still studied as an exemplar of defensive tactics.’

‘Hmm, is it just now?’ Ironwood eyed him for a few moments longer. ‘Well, then you should already know what happened.’

‘A single Atlas rifle company against Pierre Belladonna’s army, sir…there’s gotta be more to the story.’

‘It was half his army.’ Ironwood gave a grunt. ‘I swear, next time they tell that story it’ll be me holding off ten thousand faunus in my skivvies.’

Marrow knew he was on dangerous ground. But he also needed to know the answer. The man in front of him had stood firm in the middle of hell. He needed to know the same. ‘The first day the company commander died…’

‘Yes, and then the company second in command died, then the sergeant major, then the senior lieutenant above me. I’ve heard the stories as well.’ The general stared back toward the jungle. ‘They’re all I’ve got to go on as well.’

‘Sir?’

‘I can’t remember a single thing between the second day and the end of the battle.’ Ironwood smiled weakly. ‘It’s a blur, Marrow. I remember shouting, shooting, I’m fairly certain I pissed myself once or twice, and getting so hungry I boiled my own boot just to get something out of the leather. Two weeks in that little patch of mud. Two hundred of us occupied that stockade and thirty five left it. I was carried out with a sword wound in my gut and the taste of blood and fur in my mouth. They told me I bit someone’s ear off, just like they told me I was a hero.’

He locked eyes with Marrow. ‘Do you want to be a hero, Marrow?’

‘I…’ Marrow hesitated, his eyes travelling to the narrow streak of silver in between General Ironwood’s glove and his sleeve. Something told him that the General had a very particular definition when it came to heroes. ‘I just want to do my duty, sir.’

‘A noble goal. One we should all aspire to.’ Ironwood’s gaze didn’t shift, but Marrow fancied he saw something else in them. A question, perhaps? Or a challenge? ‘You know there’s no shame in admitting there’s a job you can’t do, Specialist. Our army was designed to fight Grimm. Fighting…people. It’s not what you signed up for.’

‘Are you threatening to relieve me, sir?’

‘I’m offering, son.’ Ironwood placed a hand on his shoulder. ‘Only a fool would send a man out there who can’t defend himself.’

Marrow whipped his head up. ‘I can! I can defend myself…’

‘And those around you? Or will you freeze up because you’re afraid of dying?’ Ironwood let the silence hang between them for a moment. ‘Fear happens to every soldier, Marrow. We all feel it. Elm, Vine, Tortuga. Maybe not Harriet, but that’s just because I’m pretty sure she doesn’t think anything can kill her. They all have their own ways of dealing with it.’

Marrow bit his lip. What was one more bit of insubordination? ‘What’s yours, sir?’

Ironwood looked down at his right arm, his face pensive. ‘When I was a young man? It was because I feared failing in my duty more than I feared death. I took risks. Pushed hard. Paid the price, in the end.’

‘And now?’

‘Now, the first round passes by and I think about my daughter.’ A faint smile creased his lips. ‘I think about her smile. How she used to twirl around our house whenever I bought her a new dress. How she used to jump off the top stair for me to catch her. Cute when she was nine, crushing when she was sixteen. Her beating down my bedroom door whenever I got back from a mission and demanding we go out for pancakes. Heh, she used to get some of her whipped cream and paint a huge moustache on my face. Demanded I do an evil laugh like this.’

The general proceeded to give a sinister cackle that Marrow would have found more believable coming from the villain of a child’s cartoon than the dignified old soldier in front of him.

‘I think about all of that, Marrow, and the rest comes naturally.’

Marrow diplomatically looked away as the General’s eyes began to dampen. ‘She sounds like an incredible young woman, sir.’

‘Yes, yes she is.’ Ironwood passed his glove over his face. ‘The most incredible young woman in the world.’

\--------------------------------

Pyrrha Nikos watched in fascination as Nora Valkyrie shoved a truly incredible amount of pancakes, golden syrup and whipped cream into her mouth in the same fashion that a python might dislocate its jaw to swallow a rat.

‘How does she even do that?’ Jaune whispered. Her team leader had been staring at Nora with the kind of intensity that might have, but definitely didn’t, cause a slight flare in Pyrrha’s chest. ‘There’s no physical way a human should be able to eat like that.’

‘Hollow legs, maybe?’ Pyrrha whispered back. She couldn’t blame Jaune for his curiosity. She was staring right along with him. ‘That’s her third helping?’

‘Fourth.’ Penny whispered loudly from behind both of them, causing the pair to sit bolt upright. Jaune’s head collided with Penny’s jaw, his hand shooting to the spot a second later with a whimper. Penny blinked. ‘Ouch.’

‘We weren’t staring.’ Pyrrha blurted out. ‘I mean…we were staring, but we weren’t…’

‘Cousin Nora’s ability to consume such quantities of food is of great fascination to dietologists everywhere.’ Penny continued. ‘Whilst most humans subsist on a balanced diet of meat, fish, grains and vegetables, Nora seems to have replaced them with sugar, carbohydrates and dairy with seemingly no ill effects.’

‘Right. Right.’ Pyrrha glanced awkwardly back to her own sensible breakfast of poached eggs and spinach leaves on sourdough toast. ‘That works for some, I guess.’

‘If you wish to have pancakes, why do you not simply order them?’ Penny cocked her head down at her. ‘The Beacon student kitchen serves them every day. An interesting difference from the Atlas Academy mess, which serves them only as treats on weekends. General Ironwood insists that his students maintain a healthy diet for maximum physical and mental performance.’

Pyrrha glanced at where Sun and Neptune were happily tucking into their own shortstacks. ‘I can see that.’

Penny giggled. ‘General Ironwood also says that every soldier indulges in their vices whilst on campaign.’

‘Excuse me.’ Ciel bumped past them, her arms piled with plates as she close with Sun and Neptune. Both boys whined unhappily as Ciel firmly removed their sugary treats and stuck an egg-white omelette in front of each of them. ‘We have combat training this morning and you two need proper food, not just sugar.’

‘Ciel, please.’ Sun snatched at the plate she was holding away from him. ‘I’m a growing boy.’

‘Yeah, outwards,’ Ciel scolded. ‘Or do you really want to lose those abs of yours?’

Sun paused. ‘I’ll take the omelette.’

‘Wise choice.’

In spite of Sun’s surrender, Neptune persisted. ‘Come on, Ciel, I just want a bite! Half and half, please!’

‘Nep, stop!’ Ciel yelped, overbalancing under his press. ‘No!’

She lost her grip on the stack of pancakes, sending the plate plummeting down onto…

Pyrrha gasped. Jaune winced. Weiss smacked a hand against her face.

A line of golden syrup ran down Ruby’s face from the mess now crowning her hair.

‘Ruby…’ Yang reached out a hesitating hand. ‘Are you?’

Ruby stood, her eyes shut tight. ‘Ciel?’

The Atlas girl winced. ‘Yes, Ruby?’

‘Could you please give me that other plate of pancakes?’

‘Yes, Ruby.’

A brief splat later and Neptune was sighing as he looked at his own syrupy uniform. ‘That’s fair.’

The chatter resumed around the table as Ruby cleaned the worst off herself with Yang’s help. Pyrrha was trying very hard to keep a smile off her face at the sight of her partner spattered head to toe in cream and syrup.

‘Come on,’ she said to Jaune. ‘We should help her clean up.’

‘Aww.’ Jaune put on a pout. ‘I was hoping for a food fight.’

‘Not with Professor Goodwitch doing the rounds.’ Pyrrha inclined her head toward the patrolling combat professor. ‘She must be making sure everything goes smoothly with all the new teams arriving today.’

She made to stand, but Bella of all people beat her to it. The yellow-eyed girl, beanie still firmly in place despite the fair weather, was escorting Ruby toward the direction of the bathrooms, steps quick and sure and a pleasant smile on her face. Yang was walking on the other side of Ruby, a puzzled look on her face as they frogmarched Ruby between them.

‘Is it just me or has Bella been scarily friendly the last few days?’ Sun looked after the trio, scratching the back of his ear with his tail.

‘It’s not just you,’ Jaune said.

‘Blonde to blonde communication.’ Sun held up his hand and Jaune high-fived it absently. ‘But it’s weird, right?’

‘I mean, she did save Ruby from being stabbed,’ Ciel offered. She looked toward Ren. ‘Is there some kind of Mistral tradition that says if you save someone’s life you become responsible for them?’

Ren stared back. ‘Why are you looking at me when you say that?’

The eyes of the group travelled between him and Nora a few times. They looked back.

Finally, Pyrrha gave a shrug. ‘Well, it’s better than her and Yang being at each other’s throats all the time, I guess.’

\----------------------

‘Okay, I think that’s the last of the cream,’ Yang said. ‘But you’re going to need to have a shower and soak your hood before it’s good to go.’

‘Thanks,’ Ruby said, clearly not relishing the sticky feeling of the syrup against the back of her neck. ‘Do you…’

‘Did you get any of it in your mouth?’ Bella interrupted. She seemed less focused on the mess in Ruby’s hair and clothes and more focused on her skin and face. ‘Do you feel any burning sensations where the syrup touched your skin?’

‘Um…no and no?’ Ruby glanced back at Yang, who gave her a helpless shrug. ‘What does it matter if I ate a little bit.’

‘It matters,’ Bella muttered darkly. ‘You shouldn’t eat any food that you haven’t prepared yourself.’

‘But we’re not allowed to use the kitchens…’

‘Hmm. You’re right. Make sure you’re the only one that touches your food when you get it.’

‘Right, right…why?’

Bella hesitated. ‘Spiking?’

‘Spiking?’ Yang raised an eyebrow.

‘Spiking,’ Bella confirmed. The girl bounced on the balls of her feet, eyes shooting between where they stood and the door. ‘You never know when some creep might try their luck.’

‘In Beacon.’ Yang said.

‘Huntsmen academies are hotbeds of sexual behaviour. The age range and physical fitness of those involved practically guarantees it.’

‘Right, right.’ Yang glanced at Ruby. ‘I think I remember reading about the spate of roofied meatballs on pasta night.’

‘Mock me if you wish.’ Bella’s tone was stiff. ‘I’d rather be over-cautious than proven wrong. We should let Ruby have a shower. You should stay in there with her, I’ll keep watch out here.’

‘Keep watch for what?’

‘Perverts. You never know when they might strike.’

Ruby sighed. ‘Thanks, Bella, but I think I’ll be safe having a shower on my own.’

Bella’s eyes narrowed, and for a moment Yang wondered if she was actually going to try and force the issue. Rather than protest, however, she turned away with a shrug. ‘I might hang around anyway. Help you get to class afterwards.’

‘Right. I’ll…I guess I’ll see you in a few minutes.’ Ruby made desperate eye contact with Yang and managed to mouth _help me_ before fleeing to the relative safety of the shower room.

Yang grabbed Bella’s arm as the girl made to follow. ‘Bella, my sister is perfectly capable of taking a shower without your assistance.’

‘It’s not that.’ Bella tried to wrestle out of her grip. ‘I forgot to clear the shower room first. Sloppy. Sloppy!’

‘Calm down!’ Yang wrestled her back. ‘What’s gotten into you lately?’

‘What’s gotten into me?’ Bella snapped her head back toward Yang, yellow eyes blazing. ‘What’s gotten into you? In case you hadn’t noticed, your sister was nearly murdered in the street the other day.’

‘Oh come on, it was some street thief trying to stick her up.’ Yang had to roll her eyes at Bella’s dramatics. Even Ruby had admitted it was highly unlikely the pickpocket had intended to kill her. ‘You’re letting your imagination get the better of you. Stop being so paranoid.’

‘It’s not paranoia if there really is someone out to get her,’ Bella said.

‘Who?’ Yang rolled her eyes for what felt like the hundredth time in an hour. ‘The coalition of street thieves you seem to think has it out for my sister?’

Bella crossed her arms. ‘Feel free to think what you like. I’m going to make sure Ruby is safe.’

Yang slumped against the sink. ‘Then I guess I’m waiting too.’

Bella didn’t seem at all displeased by that. ‘Excellent. Two sets of eyes are better than one.’

Yang sighed. ‘Of course they are.’

\----------------------------

Roman spun the bottle up and over his wrist to land in his opposite hand. ‘Now, the secret to the perfect Redheaded Slut is to never let the flavour of the cranberry juice overwhelm the peach schnapps. Ruins the whole set up.’

The boy sitting across the bar looked back at him with what could charitably be described as bored contempt. ‘I don’t drink.’

‘Not even a little?’ Roman expertly strained the remainder of the shaker into the tall glass. ‘Come on, this thing would put a spring in anyone’s step.’

‘I don’t drink.’

Roman reached for the bar fridge and tossed him a can of soft drink instead. ‘A man of few vices. I can respect that. Do you play cards?’

‘Never really learned how.’ Mercury glanced around. ‘Hey, where’s pink kid?’

‘Don’t refer to Neo as a child,’ Roman kept his tone light, but the edge seeped through. ‘It annoys her.’

‘What’s she going to do? Kick me in the shins?’

‘Neo’s revenges are hardly so obvious. They are always unexpected. And painful.’

The lack of any change in Mercury’s shoulders likely indicated his lack of care for the matter. Roman wondered if he was really so cocksure he would keep his guard down like that? Neo seemed to think otherwise, given how her eyes never left Mercury whenever they were in the same room together. Perhaps this _was_ his alert position? With shoulders slightly slumped, feet kicked up and bored eyes scanning the room for entertainment, Mercury barely seemed on the same plane of reality, let alone planning for a fight.

If that was his alert state, it meant he never left it.

‘Cinder wants to know why you haven’t made any more acquisitions for her.’

‘She could have asked that over the phone.’

‘It was more efficient to ask in person.’

‘And she sent you to do it?’ Roman’s lip curled just the right amount. ‘You’re a little overqualified to be a messenger boy.’

‘I was hired by Cinder. As long as she’s giving the orders and paying the bills then I guess I’m delivering messages for her.’

‘And what if Cinder wasn’t giving you your orders anymore?’ Roman took a delicate sip, his eyes never leaving Mercury’s face. ‘What would you do then?’

‘I’d find work.’ Mercury gave a shrug. ‘Plenty of people out there need my skills.’

‘Then there’s nothing really tying you to her?’ Roman leaned forward on the bar. ‘No pressing sense of loyalty?’

Mercury paused, the can of soft drink halfway to his mouth. ‘Are you asking me what I’d do if Cinder showed up in the harbour wrapped in a plastic sheet?’

‘Essentially.’

The kid couldn’t hide it, the tiny grin that started spreading across his face before he reined it in. Roman couldn’t blame him. There was always something delicious about planning a conspiracy. Especially when it involved stabbing someone in the back. Especially when that someone had it coming.

‘I wouldn’t really feel the need to start hunting down her killers.’ Mercury paused. ‘Provided Emerald wasn’t in that sheet with her.’

‘Oh? Attached to the girl, are you?’ Roman chuckled as the boy scowled. ‘Not to worry, I shan’t tell her.’

‘I just don’t want her to die. After Cinder’s gone? She’s on her own.’

‘We’re all on our own in the end.’ Roman stood straight. ‘Well then…’

‘And if I was to be standing nearby, I’d have to help her.’ Mercury seemed almost apologetic at that. ‘Sorry, but I wouldn’t gamble against Cinder even when she’s having a bad day. Her semblance might be playing with dirt, but she’s damn clever with it.’

‘Noted.’ Roman flicked a wad of lien from his pocket straight to Mercury’s hand. ‘Why don’t you buy yourself a couple of video games on the way home. Find a reason to be playing them next time Cinder needs to come to town.’

‘Couple of new releases coming out soon.’ Mercury thumbed through the cash. ‘Gaming’s an expensive habit.’

‘Could be you need a better paying employer?’

‘Could be.’ Mercury grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair. ‘I guess we’ll find out in a day or so.’

Only once Mercury had left did Roman give a nod to the pool table behind where the youth had stood. With a shimmer of light, Neo reappeared, lounging on her side with her head propped up on one hand. She gave a pretty yawn as she stared back up at him, twirling the hook hilt of her rapier back and forth a few times.

‘Oh don’t give me that look,’ Roman scolded. ‘Besides, he could be useful. After all, we’re still going to need muscle when all of this is said and done. That dust isn’t going to sell itself.’

Neo raised an eyebrow as if to ask ‘what then?’

Roman grinned back. ‘Then we finally take that holiday we’ve been planning. How many weeks do you think a warehouse full of dust will buy us at one of the fancier places in North Vacuo?’

Lien signs began flashing in Neo’s eyes, Roman cackling furiously as fake golden coins began to shower around her.

He scooped her up into a hug, accepting her affectionate kiss with one of his own. ‘Pack all your swimsuits, Neo. It’s going to get warm over there in paradise.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, the chapter title is a reference to the death of RWBY as a show that can be taken seriously.


	25. 'the woman who took a risk'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Winter, Marrow and Ironwood mull over their private doubts before the mission launches.
> 
> Discord rises within Team CESM as the newest member questions Cinder's methods.

_‘Well we joined the fucking army ‘cos we thought it fucking right, but we don’t give a bugger if we dig or fucking fight! But what we do object to are those fucking Ops Room twats, who sit there sewing stripes on at a rate of fucking knots!’_

Winter twitched as more profanity-laced singing drifted up from the warehouse as the Ace Ops and the commandos began hooking up the carriage cables to different points on the deck. ‘Must she really swear so much when she sings?’

Clover glanced up from where he was flicking through the settings on his radio. ‘Look, I’d just be grateful that Harriet’s singing that one and not her favourite.’

‘What’s her favourite?’

‘Fuck ‘Em All.’

‘I beg your pardon?’ Winter spluttered.

‘That’s her favourite song.’

‘Really?’ General Ironwood raised an eyebrow. ‘That’s an old one. Pretty sure they were still singing it back when I was a subaltern.’

‘Oh? Were they still wearing plate armour and riding horses into battle back then?’

‘Clover!’ Winter hissed, but the general was already laughing. She had to remind herself that despite being senior to him in rank, Clover had served for far longer than her. Fifteen years in the ranks compared to her five. Ten years longer than her, ten years shorter than General Ironwood. At an age when most men would be looking forward to their colonelcy, Clover was still running around like a huntsman fresh out of the academy.

That experience, when combined with his tactical acumen and finely honed skill, made him more than just a valuable officer or a valuable specialist. It made him, perhaps, the most invaluable field asset the Atlas military had. And his team, which was now dispersing in the direction of the base gym, were the most combat effective element the army had.

‘Well, your engine is working, despite all predictions to the contrary,’ Ironwood moved to the tac-map projected in the centre of the room. ‘I suppose all that is left is to decide go or no-go. Ground Commander?’

‘Go,’ Clover said, not one moment of hesitation flickering across his face. ‘The Ace Ops are prepped and ready, as are the commandos. We’ll never have a better shot than this.’

Ironwood nodded. It wasn’t like anyone had expected any different answer from Clover. ‘Air Commander?’

Major Arakawa pressed her fingers to her lips. A career pilot, the cow faunus had skyrocketed up the ranks of the military when Ironwood had lifted the restrictions seven years earlier. But she knew war and she knew soldiers, and her judgement on both was impeccable.

‘Go,’ she said. ‘It will be close, and my Mantas will have limited flight time for the evac, but the odds are still in our favour.’

Ironwood steepled his hands beneath his chin before nodding again. Finally his eyes moved to meet Winter’s. ‘Mission Commander?’

She could still scrub it. Not without protest. Not without Clover kicking up a fuss. Not without the General trying to talk her out of it. But she could. There would be mutterings and rumours around the camp that Major Schnee didn’t have a spine, that she was unwilling to take risks and that they were all going to be stuck in this godsforsaken jungle until the Brother Gods returned. And General Ironwood would be disappointed.

But a military simply couldn’t function any other way. There would be groaning and muttering, but if she said the plan had too many risks then that would be it. And the plan had risks. If Clover’s prized _Lady Luck_ broke down on the river. If they were discovered during their infiltration. If the Mantas broke down the landing pad. If the White Fang had purchased better anti-air weapons with their new supplies of dust. Everything could go to hell and back in short order and there would be nothing she could do to stop it.

Every military tactician tried to mitigate risks where they could. Some could be treated through planning. Some could be transferred higher with a request for additional units or assets. Some simply had to be tolerated, with a wry acknowledgement that you simply could not remove every risk once the bullets started flying.

During her time in officer candidate school, Winter had sometimes been critiqued for overly cautious planning. _It’s just the classroom,_ some instructors had prompted. _Take some risks, cadet._ If they could have seen the plan she’d helped concoct, they’d have probably suffered a heart attack.

A two hundred kilometre infiltration by boat. A brazen infiltration of an enemy camp. Destruction of key resources. An exfiltration flight by Mantas on the very edge of their fuel range. If it went wrong, five Ace Operatives, three commandos and Specialist Amin would pay the price. Because of the plan she’d helped make.

Because she wanted this to be over. Because she wanted her hair to stop being a birds nest the second she stepped out into the damp heat of Southern Mistral. Because she wanted to stop being eaten alive by mosquitos every second of every day. Because she was sick of terrible mess food and terrible mess coffee. And above all else, because she was sick of getting shot at by teenagers in ditches with cheap hunting rifles.

What was a little risk compared to all of that?

‘Go,’ she said.

\------------------------

‘Everyone’s entitled to their choice.’ Tortuga said gravely. ‘Even if it’s wrong.’

He began to slide the extra weight plates onto the bar as Harriet stretched her arms and bounced on the balls of her feet.

‘This can’t be good.’ Marrow looked over to Elm, the long-suffering expression on the woman’s face growing even more mournful as Harriet reclined onto the bench and set her hands to the bar. ‘That’s…’

‘I know.’ Elm gave a heavy sigh. ‘She’s been trying to lift that weight for years. Can’t convince her otherwise.’

‘But that must weigh at least twice her bodyweight.’

‘Probably,’ Elm said. ‘I call it the _Speedster Inferiority Complex_. Every fast runner also insists that they can lift heavy.’

‘That’s going to crush her.’ Marrow gave a glance around the gym. The rest of the Ace Operatives, bar Clover, were observing Tortuga spotting Harriet with expressions ranging from humour to mild indifference.

‘Always does,’ Elm said. ‘Which is why we always like being here to watch it.’

‘Oh…’

The shed currently serving as the base’s improvised gym was, mercifully, air conditioned. Unmercifully, it drew quite a large crowd. And Harriet seemed to be one for performances.

‘Easy, all day,’ she huffed. ‘Easy, all day!’

She tightened her grip on the bar and shifted it up and into position. Her teeth clenched in effort, Harriet slowly began to lower the bar until it was hovering just above her chest. And then, with a slight hiss of air and every vein on her neck standing out, she began to push it upwards.

Marrow found himself bouncing on his toes, his tail wagging unconsciously as the audience leaned in, willing the bar upwards slowly but surely, inch by inch until…almost…just about…

The door to the gym slammed open and Clover stormed in. ‘Gear up and mount up! Ten minutes notice to move! Mission is go!’

‘Mission is go! Man your posts!’ Elm barked. As the next most senior in the team, and almost as deadly as Clover to boot Marrow knew, she was his natural second in command, a position she didn’t flex often. But when she did, everyone hopped to it.

All except Harriet, who suddenly found herself trapped under a very heavy bar with her spotter heading toward the door.

‘Tortie,’ Harriet yelped. ‘Tortie, this isn’t funny!’

‘Shouldn’t we help her?’ Marrow asked anxiously.

Vine paused. ‘When one seeks to scale a mountain,’ he said, ‘one should not be surprised when the snow grows cold.’

Elm nodded. ‘I mean, lifting that weight should be no issue for the best fighter on the Ace Ops.’

Marrow glanced back at Harriet, who was a little too busy trying to keep the weight of the bar off her chest to shoot anything back. They were joking. He was sure they were joking. They had to be joking…

He dashed over to the bench, taking the weight off Harriet and lifting it back into the rack. ‘I got you.’

Rather than look at him with gratitude, Harriet rose up with a scowl spreading over her face. ‘Did I ask for your help, rookie?’

‘Well no, but I…’ Marrow trailed off as Harriet stomped away, the short woman angrily barking something at Tortuga as her partner snickered by the door. ‘I was just trying to help…’

‘I know, rookie.’ Elm’s hand rested on his shoulder. ‘Harriet doesn’t like asking for help at the best of times.’

‘Why does it feel like she likes me less now than when I first arrived here?’ Marrow couldn’t keep the resentment out of tone. He couldn’t think of anything he might have done to irritate the brawler.

‘Forming, storming and norming.’ Elm led the way out of the gym. ‘Every team has to go through it. Once the honeymoon’s over the rough edges start to show. Normally we like to work with our attachments for at least three months before we go into action. We train, we drink, we go fishing…’

‘Clover goes fishing and the rest of us get drunk.’ Vine corrected.

‘…and by the end of it we’re sharing everything but spit.’ Elm finished. ‘But there’s a war on and we’re time poor, so in this instance we’re hoping that just one unfamiliar face won’t make that much of a difference.’

 _And I already froze once_. Marrow didn’t need to hear her say it for it to still be hanging in the air. He was under no illusions that if there was another equally qualified faunus soldier to replace him, he’d already be on a flight back to Atlas. Elm’s cheery smile and Clover’s attempts to make him feel useful aside, Tortuga and Harriet had barely talked to him since.

But they needed bodies. Bodies with faunus features that could get them far enough south to complete the mission without alerting the White Fang to their presence. Which meant a second chance to prove himself. A chance to show he was Special Operative material. _Ace_ Operative material.

‘I’m ready,’ he said aloud. ‘Let’s mount up.’

Elm’s smile became slightly strained. ‘Don’t be too hasty.’

‘Didn’t Clover just say that the mission was go?’

‘Yes, but…’

\-----------------------------------

‘…military operations can take a while to actually launch even after the word is given.’ Elm yawned, shifting the sandbag under her head. ‘There’s a lot of checklists to tick off. Pre-flight for the gunships, ordnance checks, medical plans, ROC drills. Plus I’m betting that the Mistral Assembly is getting finicky about us launching this operation again. We do have to run all plans by them, after all. Their house, their rules.’

‘I know,’ Harriet growled. ‘You said all that three hours ago.’

‘And you asked what was taking so long.’ Elm pulled her jacket over her face to block out the morning sun. ‘So I answered again.’

Marrow sat next to Flax as the two women went back and forth. The commando team leader was tinkering with his carbine, a tiny smile on his face at the banter before him. The older faunus hadn’t said anything to Marrow about his earlier performance, but he hadn’t given him the cold shoulder either.

Was that because Flax understood why he had frozen? Or because they desperately needed the numbers?

Harriet flopped back onto the pile of supplies that was serving as an improvised assembly area/rest point for the Ace Ops. ‘If I have to keep sitting here I think I might actually defect to the White Fang.’

‘You might have a shot,’ Vine said, tapping his chin thoughtfully. ‘They are getting desperate. You could pretend to be a rabbit faunus.’

‘Exactly, I…’ Harriet suddenly sat up as his words sank in. ‘That’s not funny.’

‘You pretending to be a rabbit faunus?’

‘That the White Fang would have to be desperate to take me.’ Harriet flexed her right arm. ‘I’d be an asset to any military in the world.’

Tortuga cracked an eyelid. ‘We are the _only_ military in the world.’

‘Good point!’ Harriet sat up. ‘Why? Why are we the only standing army in the world? It doesn’t make any sense!’

‘Oh gods, here she goes again.’ Rolling over, Elm buried her face in her improvised pillow. ‘Some please beat me unconscious until it’s over.’

‘There are what? A few hundred huntsmen in each kingdom? Maybe a few thousand in all of Remnant?’ Harriet fished out her scroll and began plugging numbers into her calculator app. ‘That’s a tiny percentage of the fighting age population, a population that otherwise cannot defend itself against Grimm attacks barring the odd militia. Now, when we calculate that not everyone can afford the education or weaponry necessary to become a huntsman, that’s a huge pool of eligible fighters that’s not being drawn on.’

‘You don’t say?’

‘Now, Atlas has only got a population of about twenty million, right? And from that we were able to raise a standing army of about fifty thousand. Vale and Mistral have a far larger population base and a lot more territory to cover. They could field an army four or five times our size, which could actively assist huntsmen in culling operations. Rather than depending on local militias, which can go rogue, a military reporting to a central government would…’

‘Tortuga, how much will it cost to shut her up?’

Tortuga didn’t shift, but a grin slowly spread across his face. ‘What? I agree with her. Go off, Harriet.’

‘I will, thanks partner.’ Harriet looked around. ‘Let me get a whiteboard so I can lay all this out properly.’

‘That won’t be necessary.’ Clover approached with Major Schnee by his side. ‘Issues are sorted, we’re good to go.’

‘And what was the issue?’ Harriet asked.

‘One of the QRF Mantas failed pre-flight checks.’

‘Why did it fail pre-flight?’

‘Radios weren’t working.’

‘Why weren’t the radios working?’

‘No one switched them on.’

Harriet paused, her left eye twitching furiously. ‘Do you ever wonder if maybe the White Fang deserves to win?’

‘So can we mount up now?’ Elm sat up, pulling her jacket back on.

‘Not quite yet,’ Clover said. ‘General Ironwood wants a word before we step off.’

‘Of course,’ Harriet said, checking her watch. ‘We’re only twenty eight hours behind schedule, what’s another five minutes?’

Vine chuckled quietly as he helped Elm to her feet. ‘Sometimes I forget how young you are, Harriet. In my last job I sometimes had to wait weeks for a mission to launch.’

‘And what was your last job?’ Harriet asked, eyes narrowed.

‘Classified,’ Vine replied, with the grin from Elm telling Marrow this was an old conversation between the team. ‘And above your paygrade.’

Tortuga yawned. ‘Do you think the mess is still doing breakfast?’

‘You already had it,’ Harriet said.

‘I’ve had one, yes, what about…’

A protein bar hit his face before he could finish the sentence. Clover retrieved another one from his pocket and began peeling off the wrapper. ‘Wrap your laughing gear around that. We might have to wait awhile for lunch.’

‘I stocked the galley pretty well,’ Elm chimed in. ‘How do you all feel about fish curry for dinner?’

Tortuga licked his lips. ‘I’ll always eat your cooking, Elm. Hey, think we’ve got time to do a little hunting on our way south? I think there’s deer in this area around Widow Polly’s place. I haven’t had venison stew since that last mission in Vale…’

Major Schnee raised an eyebrow at him. ‘Must you always think with your stomach?’

Tortuga gave the officer a wink. ‘I joined the army for three hots and a cot, ma’am. And, y’know, for money. Speaking of which, any chance of the General bumping up the danger money for a mission like this?’

‘You’re already getting paid three hundred lien extra a day for just being here.’

‘Well, when you put it that way…’ Tortuga shrugged. ‘Now, what to spend it on when we get back to Atlas…’

Harriet’s stomach growled. ‘I think I’m going to spend mine on burgers.’

Elm snapped her fingers. ‘Burger night round at Mama’s Place. Tortie?’

‘Mama will be pretty happy to oblige. Plus she probably wants to introduce Harriet to some of my cousins…’

‘Please,’ Harriet snorted. ‘When I marry, I’m going to marry rich. Hey Winter, you have a brother, right?’

Winter glared at her. ‘He’s fourteen, Harriet.’

Harriet shrugged. ‘I’ll wait.’

Winter turned bright red, her mouth opening and closing as her eyes flashed with fury. The rest of the Ace Ops snickering made Marrow wonder just how often Harriet made it her personal mission to get beneath Major Schnee’s skin.

‘When I get home, I want a drink as well.’ Tortuga licked his lips carefully. ‘And I know just the one. A nice, tall glass of Dicken’s Cider. What about you, Harriet?’

‘Oh yes,’ Harriet nodded eagerly. ‘This girl definitely needs to get some Dicken’s Cider. What about you, Marrow? Would _you_ like to get some Dicken’s Cider?’

‘Uh…’ Marrow glanced around. The eager smiles on the Ace Ops and the supporting commandos were slightly confusing. They must really have liked their drink. ‘What does it taste like?’

‘Oh, it tastes really good,’ Elm cooed. For some reason, that made Clover violently twitch. ‘Thick and creamy, with a nice layer of froth at the top.’

Winter clenched her fists, her cheeks scarlet. ‘You are all disgusting individuals, and I cannot believe this mission has been entrusted to you.’

She stormed off, leaving Marrow non-plussed at her reaction to a beverage. ‘Ah, I guess if it’s that good then yeah, I’d love to get some Dicken’s Cider.’

It was like he’d flicked a switch, the soldiers around him bursting into hysterics as they fell to the ground or braced themselves against the stack of crates. Clover was bent double, clutching his stomach as he cackled. Vine was holding Elm upright, the woman crying tears of mirth into his sash.

Marrow wondered if he’d said something funny.

‘Marrow,’ Harriet said when she recovered, her eyes bright and wide. ‘General Ironwood’s heading our way. Why don’t you ask him if _he’d_ like to get some Dicken’s Cider with Miss Goodwitch?’

\------------------------------

‘The Ace Ops seem in good spirits,’ James noted as he walked toward the laughing group.

‘Yes,’ Winter replied through gritted teeth. ‘Very high morale unit, the Ace Operatives.’

‘Well, it’s best to be on the positive side of things.’ James shook his head. ‘I once served with a man called Moriarty. A very depressing individual, always doom and gloom. I’m half convinced all his negative waves were the reason so many things went wrong.’

‘Yes, sir. Negative waves. Absolutely, sir.’

James glanced at her, his brow furrowed. ‘Is something wrong, Winter?’

‘Nothing wrong at all, sir.’ Winter continued to glare at the Ace Ops like they had done her a personal injury.

Clover motioned for his team to sober up as James drew closer. He gave the team leader a quick nod. ‘Thank you, Captain. I’ll keep this brief. How are your troops?’

‘Keen and ready for action, as always sir.’

‘Good to hear.’ James folded his hands behind his back. ‘I’m not one for long speeches, so here are the facts of the matter. This mission has the potential to de-escalate the ongoing violence. Many people on both sides of the Disputed Zone would rather we pack up and go home and let the militia and the White Fang sort it out between them. Many back home in Atlas would like us to remain here indefinitely, trading our lives away so they can position themselves to exploit the resources of this place.’

Winter shifted uncomfortably at that. They both knew who was doing most of the heavy lifting on that front.

‘It is our hope that with her arsenal neutralised and the Mistral militias suppressed, Sienna Khan will return to the negotiating table. The huntsmen from Vale will take over peacekeeping duties and we will return back to our homes and families. I am asking you to limit the force you employ, to avoid taking life if at all possible, in order to avoid escalating the conflict.’

The team shared glances with each other. He knew he’d be doing the same in their shoes. The White Fang would be showing them no such mercy. ‘I know it’s a tall order. But you’re the Ace Ops. You were hand-picked for this job because sometimes five good fighters can do what an army can’t. I wish you the best of luck.’ His eyes slid to Clover. ‘Those of you that need it, at least.’

There was a round of chuckles at the obvious joke. James wish he had something more for them. How many times had he done this now? Sent men into harm’s way where he couldn’t go himself? Part of him wanted to grab the second pistol from his quarters, strap on his gunbelts and jump in the boat with them.

But getting to grips with the enemy was a luxury he’d traded away with every promotion.

‘Good luck,’ he said again. ‘I’ll see you all when you get back.’

Harriet nudged Marrow. The rookie looked at her, a confused frown on his face. She made a ‘go on’ gesture and he nodded with sudden comprehension.

‘Sir?’ Marrow stepped forward. ‘You’re heading to Vale after this mission, aren’t you?’

‘Well…if it goes well then I suppose I could take some time off.’ James cocked his head. ‘Why do you ask?’

‘Well, the others…they were thinking that you might want to get a drink with Glynda Goodwitch. They…they said you might like to have some Dicken’s Cider with her?’

‘Specialist Amin!’ Winter gasped. ‘How dare…?’

‘It’s quite alright, Winter.’ James patted her shoulder. ‘I suppose Harriet put you up to this?’

Marrow bowed his head, all the confirmation he needed. James chuckled. ‘Well, I might grab a drink with Miss Goodwitch, as an old and trusted friend. I’ve never had any Dicken’s Cider before, but if it’s good then I suppose I might try some.’

Winter let out what could only be described as an unearthly squeak. ‘Sir!’

‘Yes, Major?’

Winter glanced back at Harriet, whose face was locked in a stone mask. ‘Nothing, sir.’

‘It’s a specialty of Vale, I believe sir,’ Tortuga said. ‘Best enjoyed fresh.’

‘Well, we shall have to see,’ James said. ‘Perhaps, if this mission goes well, we shall all share some Dicken’s Cider together.’

‘Sir, we should probably return to the command centre,’ Winter said hurriedly. ‘There’s a lot of work to attend to.’

‘Of course.’ James turned. ‘Good soldiering to all of you. Carry on.’

He kept his shoulders squared as he walked away, trying his best to ignore the heavy sighs and emotional sniffs behind him. Still…

James glanced back to see Tortuga and Harriet embracing, their shoulders shaking as they buried their heads into each other’s necks. It touched him deep in his heart to see the bonds of comradeship before a battle.

\---------------------------------------

Cinder glanced up sharply as Emerald entered the dorm. ‘Where have you been?’

‘Just in class,’ Emerald said. She placed her bag back on her bed and began removing her Haven jacket. ‘We were doing an extra session on the Faunus Rights Revolution. Did you know that with Mantle’s warrior-class still isolating itself in Alsius after the Great War, Mantle couldn’t actually enforce the expulsion legislation? It’s the reason why the faunus population in Atlas and Mantle is still so high, as well as Solitan not being a widespread language on Menagerie.’

‘Fascinating.’ Cinder’s tone made Emerald flinch on reflex. ‘Tell me, Emerald, what are we posing as?’

Emerald’s brow furrowed. ‘Huntresses in training.’

‘Yes. Fourth year huntresses in training, as a matter of fact.’ Cinder stood, smiling unpleasantly as she walked over to Emerald’s bags. Rifling through it, she extracted some of the textbooks. ‘Students who should already be quite familiar with such basic works as _A Complete History of Vale,_ don’t you think? Was your class for fourth years?’

‘Ah…well, no,’ Emerald shifted her feet. Behind Cinder, Shilling was watching intently, the girl’s green eyes taking everything in. ‘It was a remedial class. Basic history. Doctor Oobleck recommended it after I asked him for…’

‘Oobleck. Yes. A teacher here. One of Ozpin’s favourites, to be precise.’ Cinder flicked the book back onto the bed. ‘And you just announced to him that you have less knowledge of history than a high schooler, let alone a fourth year.’

‘I think it’s admirable,’ Shilling spoke up. ‘The pursuit of higher education is what truly sets mankind apart from animals. That Emerald is choosing to improve her mental faculties should be praised, not criticised. My father would…’

‘Your _father_ is not here.’ Cinder flicked the girl a scornful glance. ‘This is my mission and I decide upon the parameters.’

Shilling didn’t seem perturbed by the words. ‘Only a limited mind would ever see the pursuit of knowledge as a negative.’

‘It’s not the pursuit of knowledge I object to.’ Cinder turned back to Emerald. ‘It’s you foolishly risking our cover for your own selfish ends.’

Emerald lowered her gaze, unable to bear the intensity of Cinder’s disappointment. ‘I’m sorry. I should have thought…’

‘Don’t think.’ Cinder placed a hand on Emerald’s shoulder. Her fingers pulsed with heat. ‘Obey. You’ll only attend combat classes from now on, where your skill level will not seem out of place. Understood?’

‘Yes, ma’am. Sorry ma’am.’ Emerald swallowed deeply. She hated feeling like this, like she’d disappointed Cinder so badly there was no earning back her confidence. If she’d only been smarter or thought less about herself and more about the plan…

‘Cheer up.’ Cinder chucked her lightly under the chin. ‘We have more pressing issues to deal with. ‘I’m late for a meeting with Torchwick. You can come along, if you like.’

Emerald perked up. ‘I’ll get changed.’

‘Do that. Then grab Mercury.’ Cinder tapped her chin. ‘He said Roman wouldn’t budge yesterday. I want to make sure Roman respects Mercury as my delegate. I’ll be downstairs.’

‘Of course.’ Moving to her cupboard, Emerald quickly stripped out of her Haven uniform and donned her combat outfit. She was grateful that Cinder was giving her a proper chance to prove herself again. Cinder was like that. No matter how badly Emerald had messed up in their time together, Cinder had always given her chance after chance to make up for it.

She finished dressing, turning to find Shilling staring at her yet again. The girl’s intense, _inhuman,_ gaze never failed to unnerve her. At the orphanage, staring at someone for too long with her own scarlet gaze might provoke a pinch from one of the older kids or a smack from the madame for being ‘menacing’. Frankly, she didn’t think the madame would have found the courage to slap Shilling, especially after she hadn’t blinked for five minutes.

‘Why do you allow her to do that?’ Shilling tilted her her head downwards. She was taller than Emerald, but that didn’t bother her. What _did_ bother her were the deceptively skinny limbs that Emerald knew full well could tear her into multiple smaller Emeralds faster than she could blink.

‘Do what?’ Emerald said, attempting to ignore her as she put her books away on her slowly growing shelf.

‘Insult you. Degrade you. Run you down all the time.’ Shilling nodded toward the history books. ‘You possess ample means of defending yourself. Indeed, your semblance should act as a fearsome deterrent.’

‘Cinder is in charge.’ Emerald’s eyes widened slightly at the implication that she would ever use her semblance on Cinder. ‘She’s…she’s looking out for me. Has looked out for me ever since…’

‘I have studied many books on leadership, both civilian and military.’ Shilling turned toward the window, peering outwards toward the main lawn. ‘The _Junior Officer’s Handbook_ authored three years ago by General Ironwood advises treating a subordinate with kindness and dignity in order to win their loyalty. Yet it seems as though Cinder has managed to obtain your devotion with…harsher methods. An interesting commentary on your vulnerability before her, I feel.’

Emerald’s hackles raised, now fully on the defensive. ‘You don’t know what it was like before her. I had nothing. I slept on an old terrace. I ate whatever I could steal. I…’

‘Yes, yes, a tragic tale.’ Shilling walked past Emerald toward the bookshelf. ‘And I’m sure Cinder has kept you fed, watered, sheltered and clothed ever since. The same level of care one might show a dog, perhaps. Or a hamster.’

For a moment, Emerald was so angry she couldn’t think straight. Part of her wanted to grab _Thief’s Respite_ and empty the cylinders into Shilling’s back. Her better sense stopped her. That, and the fact her weapons had to be stowed in the student weapons lockers when not in use. Another useless rule Cinder had insisted they follow.

‘This is about that _father_ of yours, isn’t it?’ It was a long shot, but Cinder and Shilling’s animosity had been there from the start. And considering how Shilling talked about him… ‘You’re trying to turn me against her.’

‘Hmm, an interesting thought, but no. I do admire your logic, however.’ Shilling favoured her with a smile that almost seemed real. ‘It is true there is no love lost between my father and Cinder, however he has encouraged me to exercise my curiosity in all matters unrelated to my core directives. Any observations I make about you or her are, for want of a better term, my own private thoughts.’

‘Alright then.’ Emerald folded her arms, her own curiosity getting the better of her. ‘What _are_ those thoughts?’

‘That you make use of what is around you.’ Shilling trailed her fingers over the rows of books. ‘ _The Countess Fiancé, Enemy Brothers: A Tale of the Great War, A Complete History of Vale, Path of the Huntress, Chemistry for Beginners_. Your bookshelf is full of books. Cinder’s is empty. A barren shelf, a barren mind, my father always says.’

‘I bet Cinder already knows that stuff. And read all those books.’

‘Then why has she not read more? If one has stopped learning, they might as well start dying.’

‘Let me guess, another saying from your father?’

‘Hmm? No, I came up with that one myself.’ Shilling finished scanning through Emerald’s collection. ‘A diverse range. Drama to stimulate your emotions, combat manuals to stimulate your creativity in a fight, romance to stimulate your sexual energies toward…’

‘Whatever,’ Emerald cut her off, wishing she could hide the sudden flush in her cheeks. ‘I don’t need you to compliment my bookshelf.’

‘So you won’t take a compliment from me for free but you _will_ take an earful of vitriol from Cinder as a reward for all your service?’

‘Nothing comes for free,’ Emerald shot back. ‘Not even words.’

Shilling seemed not at all put out by the retort. ‘Well put. You know, I believe I see a spark of untested intellect in you. Beneath all that cowering and simpering, a sharp mind lurks. My father would be quite disappointed if I allowed it to languish under Cinder’s sub-standard mentorship. I shall tutor you myself.’

‘What?’ Emerald blinked, taken aback by the girl’s directness. ‘I…’

‘Six months of remedial education should more than make up for your wasted youth.’ Shilling nodded decisively. ‘Yes, we shall begin with a comprehensive base of common subjects, then see how your talents develop from there.’

‘Ah…thank you for the offer?’ Emerald wasn’t sure if she was, or if it had actually been meant as an offer, but it seemed safest to be polite. ‘But we won’t even be here after six months. And I imagine you won’t be with us either.’

Shilling didn’t seem at all offended by the remark. Rather, she seemed almost bemused. ‘Emerald…what do you think is going to happen to you once Cinder gets what she came here for?’

‘The powers and whatever Ozpin has stashed in that vault?’ Emerald shrugged. ‘I figured we’d use the powers to pull off my heists.’

‘Ah…is that what Cinder told you?’ Shilling’s smile widened, then dimmed. ‘Well, I suppose it’s close enough. Still, consider my offer. We may be spending more time together than you think.’

Emerald didn’t bother trying to bandy more words after that. Grabbing her bag, she headed out the door and along the hall with her head down. She passed some of the recently arrived Atlas students as they marched in twos and threes like the wind-up toys Cinder had called them and dodged an attempt by the blonde boy from Team JSPR to wave her down into the kitchenette. JSPR and BYRN seemed to be enjoying a freshly baked cake, courtesy of the proudly bowing Xiao-Long sisters.

Gods, all those kids pissed her off. Just looking at those smug, self-satisfied, _well-fed_ faces made her want to hit them with the illusion of mass nudity at the same time.

She caught Blake’s eyes on the way past, yellow eyes meeting red briefly. Emerald felt a spike of resentment at the faunus girl in particular. Whatever arrangement the girl had reached with Roman regarding Ruby seemed to have helped ease out the stick previously wedged up her rear end. It had also caused her to dodge Cinder at every turn and refuse all messages directing her to hit more dust depots with Roman.

Cinder had been put out by that. _Very_ put out.

She reached the common room to find Mercury still hogging the Playscroll Plus and the flatscreen. On the screen, a white haired protagonist was rolling around, twirling and swinging his sword at a particularly large and outlandish variation of Grimm. Rather than his usual smirking mask, Mercury face was locked in an angry snarl as he attempted to cut the monster down.

‘Cinder wants us.’ Emerald said.

‘For what?’ Mercury bit his lip as his magic attack spattered and died on the creature’s hide.

‘Does it matter? She wants us.’

‘And I want to beat this Wyvern and collect the gemstone in its mask.’ Mercury threw himself physically to the left on the couch, as if that would help him roll faster on the screen. ‘Which I need to get if I want to romance the Duchess on this playthrough.’

‘Well pause it, Cinder wants us.’

‘I can’t pause it, someone else might come along and turn off my game.’ He winced as the monster’s counter-attack cut down half his health bar. ‘Shit, I need more healing potions.’

‘So save it?’ Emerald didn’t know much about video-games, but she was sure that ‘saving’ was in there somewhere.

‘You can’t save in the middle of a fight, Em! No! Nonononono….’ Mercury’s shoulders slumped as the monster breathed fire at him, turning his adventurer into a flaming pyre before the screen flashed red. ‘Shit…I haven’t saved for half an hour.’

‘Good, your dead. Now can we go?’

‘Are you kidding me? Now I’ve got to get all the way back up there before dinner.’ Mercury reached for the bag of chips at his side.

‘Cinder wants us…’

‘And I want to finish my game.’ Mercury settled back in. ‘I got better things to do than traipse after Cinder.’

Emerald balled her fists. ‘Mercury you... _I_ need you to come with me.’

‘Why?’

 _Because Cinder might yell at me again if I show up without you_ , was what she wanted to say. But she kept silent. Those words felt a little too close to what Shilling had been trying to slip inside her mind a few minutes earlier.

‘How about this?’ Mercury sat up. ‘What if I send a message to Cinder saying I need _you_ for something instead? Then we can just stay here all afternoon instead of chasing her around town.’

‘I…we can’t do that!’ Emerald protested.

‘Already doing it.’ Mercury fished out his scroll. ‘Hey, Cinder. Need Em for something, gonna take an hour or two. Can catch up with you later.’

‘No, don’t...’

The scroll chimed as it sent the message away. A few moments later it chimed again. Mercury showed her the message, something equally curt and bland and slipped his scroll away.

Emerald was speechless. ‘You…you could have gotten me into trouble!’

‘But I didn’t,’ Merc winked back. ‘Ever wonder why she doesn’t yell at me the same way she does you?’

 _Because you never mess up_.

‘No,’ Em folded her arms.

‘It’s all about body language.’ Mercury settled back onto the couch and popped a chip into his mouth. ‘Cinder doesn’t go off at me because she knows it’ll be more trouble than its worth. Act like you deserve respect and people give it you. Act like you’re waiting to get kicked? Better expect a boot sooner rather than later.’

‘Uh huh.’ Em stared him down. Maybe it was frustration, maybe it was cruelty, but she wanted to wipe that smirk off his face by any means necessary. ‘Was that what happened with your dad?’

Merc didn’t even blink. ‘Yes.’

There wasn’t much to say after that. Cinder was probably already gone, so there wasn’t much point trying to catch up. Em shoved Merc’s legs out of the way and sat down on the couch. She glanced at the screen, where Merc’s character was (once again) receiving the quest to slay the Wyvern from the buxom Duchess with an Atlas accent.

‘Give me a turn,’ she said.

Mercury flicked his head at her and pouted. ‘What’s the magic word?’

‘Give me a turn or I’ll introduce a thousand wriggling spiders to your pleasant dreams at two in the morning.’

Merc tossed her the controller. ‘See? You’re learning. Chips?’

‘Yeah.’ She grabbed handful. ‘You got any dip?’

‘I’ll just steal Jaune’s. He got two kinds in a gift basket from his mommy.’

‘What a nerd.’

‘Tell me about it.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No main cast contribution this week. I did intend to have a chunk about the dance arc, but the stakes of that felt so mind-numbingly boring compared to the Atlas and Emerald segments that I decided to scrap it for the moment. Unfortunately, it's the resolution of the immediate Atlas conflict that kicks off the next major segment back at Beacon, and I doubted people wanted to be reading about shipping moments as filler.
> 
> No updates for the next two weeks, unfortunately, but that might do me some good in avoiding burnout and revising some of my planning for this arc. Man, I already miss having Blake being the central cause of drama in the last two arcs. She was fun.

**Author's Note:**

> I figured it was about time I actually compiled this thing into a proper story, my apologies for taking so long.


End file.
